


Cry Havoc

by Adel Mortescryche (Mortescryche)



Series: KHR Rare Pair Week 2018 [6]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Absent Characters, Action, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, BAMF Sasagawa Kyouko, BAMF Sawada Tsunayoshi, BAMF Yamamoto Takeshi, Badass, Character Study, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Families of Choice, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Help It's Another Monster Oneshot, If you can call it romance when Hibari's involved, It's Takeshi What Did You Expect, Kidnapping, Laughter, M/M, Minor Violence, Plot, Relationship Negotiation, Slice of Life, So Much Laughter, Some Romance, Team as Family, There is Surprisingly Plenty of Background Plot Going On, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 23:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15035582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mortescryche/pseuds/Adel%20Mortescryche
Summary: When Takeshi decided to follow his father into the bodyguard business and the Underworld at large, he thought he was mentally prepared for just about anything. He learns that there is very little that prepares a person in advance for Namimori, or one Hibari Kyoya.(Or: The Hibari Clan, the Mafia and the Yakuza all collide. Violently. Takeshi's just along for the ride with a grin in place - out to watch Kyoya's back, come hell or high water.)





	Cry Havoc

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to **@worldtravellingfly** , who helped me with shipping information. The kind that sail in water, not fandom ships. *laughs* 
> 
> Also, thanks to **@silenceia, @emptysurface, @seito, @hraap, @onceabluemoon, @OperaEagleIcelynLacelett, @kosaji, @dice, @shiro** and **@con_osc** , all of whom cheered me on and were wonderful enablers during the course of my writing this fic. I love you guys. ♥♥♥
> 
> **Head down for trigger/content warnings.**

They told him it was going to be a really tough job, early on.

Takeshi’s initial reaction was to laugh at that. Because, really, for all that he’d followed his Dad into the family business, the more _secret_ family business, he really hadn’t been expecting ominous warnings on his first day of work. Cliché much?

He laughed anyway, because why not. It always worked as a great mood maker or breaker before, especially when he needed to catch rival team captains off guard. And seeing the look on the rival Ace’s face when Takeshi managed to hit a home run off of what he thought would be a perfect strike never stopped cracking him up. Life was easier when people thought you were dumb, or simple. Expectations were lower. And people were kinder. And more likely to drop interesting information.

Dad had always found it hilarious, how well Takeshi could play the crowd. Takeshi would just like to say that he’d received that particular skill from the _source_.

True to form, the Head of Security’s face twisted a bit, looking like he was regretting picking Takeshi as one of his personnel, even if Takeshi had probably come in with great credentials. Dad’s name was apparently famous, in certain circles. Even when they were expected to leave their family names behind after getting accepted in a household, they’d all been picked for specific reasons, and Takeshi wouldn’t be surprised if his name had gotten _him_ an in with this particular family.

The older guards looked oddly pitying, though, which made Takeshi _curious_. They’d just made him guard the young master of the house, how hard could that be, anyway?

In the Hibari Household, Takeshi quickly realized that keeping an ‘eye’ on the young master of the household was easier said than done.

His job was weird, some combination between bodyguard and manservant, possibly part pet, to boot, with how exasperated yet indulgent the Hibari Family were of the guards following along in their wake at all hours. Takeshi had seen people lavishing attention on dogs with the same degree of indulgence. Dad had said these jobs usually netted the best experience in the long run, so Takeshi had taken the advice and dived right in once dad had been satisfied with his training. But he was beginning to suspect that no amount of training could have prepared him for Kyoya.

In the time he spent keeping an eye on the man, Takeshi learnt a few facts about him. For all that Kyoya was the ’young master’ of the Family, he was definitely older than Takeshi. If only by an year or so. Next, the older man loved to sleep in when he could, to the point that Takeshi got attacked with the closest available object whenever he went to wake Kyoya up in time for his disciplinary duties at the local college they attended. Third, Kyoya thought very little of him, and viewed him as an unsightly barnacle that just hung on while he attended classes and went through his activities for the day.

Which was a shame, really. Takeshi thought Kyoya was a _riot_.

It made perfect sense that Kyoya detested the sight of him - his original man Friday and bodyguard, a man by the name of Kusakabe Tetsuya, had been switched over to another Family member, since apparently Kusakabe never refused the young master anything. To the point that he’d turned ineffective as a bodyguard.

Something about the Head of Security’s tone there had made Takeshi very interested about what, exactly, Kusakabe had done on Kyoya’s orders that was bad enough to warrant breaking up a good working set. Since that’s what Hibari and their guards were - a working set put into position to do some good to the greater family and the bailiwick they’d been trusted to control.

Or, well, that’s what they were _supposed_ to be, according to Takeshi’s dad, who’d been the current Master’s guard at some point of time in the past, before Takeshi and his mom had been a thing.

Kyoya, though, wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

Takeshi followed him everywhere _anyway_. Not only because his passive aggressive twitching over it would never get old, but also because it _was_ supposed to be his job, no matter what Kyoya seemed to think about it.

“Herbivore," Kyoya hissed once, out of the blue, right after lunch and before they had to leave for class.

Takeshi straightened out of his usual slouch immediately, eyes focused straight on Kyoya’s bent over neck. The immediately attention seemed to calm the Hibari down, because instead of demanding anything, the hard set of his shoulders settled immediately, and he cleared away his bento without another word. Takeshi smoothly packed away the last of the _onigiri_ he’d brought as his own meal, and trotted after Kyoya, curious in spite of himself. Because Kyoya wasn’t one to speak unless he wanted to or had to. And very little forced him to do what he didn’t want.

The shadows of unfamiliar students watching them were easy enough to catch, but Takeshi didn’t remark on it at all, instead following Kyoya to his next class without a word.

They were cornered on campus, after the day was done. They’d barely begun to get circled when Takeshi went in for the kill, downing three of the youths surrounding them in the blink of an eye with surgically placed strikes of the sharp of his hand against the back of their necks. The fourth one he forced down to his knees, arms behind his back and facing Kyoya. The entire matter couldn’t have taken more than half a minute, if that, and the youth on the ground tried to protest, but Takeshi shut him up by pointedly tightening the hold he had on the wrists in his grasp.

When he finally looked up, back at Kyoya, the Hibari heir was smiling faintly, a menacing air around him. The hair on the back of Takeshi’s neck stood on end.

“Maybe you’ll do after all,” he said.

Takeshi laughed brightly in response, because it was that or kneel and submit to the sharpness of the light in the other man’s eyes.

*

It wasn’t any easier to tag along in Kyoya’s wake after that. If anything, it got _harder._ Apparently the man had needed a sign that Takeshi would be able to keep up with him, because he sped up in his movement and his daily activities. Where they’d simply been going to and from campus daily, before, Takeshi suddenly found himself following Hibari to a nondescript building after classes one day. And being introduced to what seemed an entire legion of punks sworn in the name of Hibari Kyoya.

He found it hilarious, of course. So fucking hilarious.

Kyoya looked like he was struggling with a burgeoning migraine, having to deal with Takeshi’s laughter after having gone through an entire day of crowded college corridors and herbivores who didn’t know any better than to babble at each other like sheep. Takeshi dearly wanted to know what defined a carnivore to the Hibari, especially when _Takeshi_ had been christened herbivore as well. But he never asked. It was honestly more fun being left alone to guess.

“This is what I call the Foundation,” Kyoya explained, later in the day, when Takeshi prepared the car for their drive back to the Hibari Clan home. “I have personal interest in Flame Technology. Tetsuya suggested that we officially pursue the matter, and members of the Disciplinary Committees I’ve headed in the past chose to follow me into my study.”

“Tetsuya being Kusakabe-san?” Takeshi asked curiously, easily pulling the car into drive and navigating them out of the garage.

“Yes.” Kyoya said simply.

Takeshi hummed thoughtfully, but didn’t ask for more, because it seemed like Kyoya had said enough for the day, and wasn’t interested in elaborating any further. It made sense that Kyoya was trusting him with the reality of what he did only after he’d proven that he could hold his own, though. From what Takeshi had heard from his dad, the Kusakabe family was no slouch in the martial arts.

Once they were home, he quickly readied a bath for Kyoya, also setting out a dark colored yukata and underclothes for him. He’d been busy pondering what blend of tea to make when Kyoya abruptly stepped up close to him and stopped. Takeshi stiffened, glancing up at him warily.

Kyoya didn’t say anything, though, he simply waited patiently in place, glancing idly towards the door leading to the private bathing area that was connected to his suite of rooms, and Takeshi breathed in sharply.

Well. He hadn’t expected being trusted with something like _this_ immediately. Apparently Kyoya was willing to trust a lot more than just the Foundation to Takeshi’s knowledge based on the fact that he could hold his own in a fight.

He wordlessly straightened and began to undo the buttons of Kyoya’s shirt clinically, neatly undoing the button to his trousers before tugging the shirt up and out. Kyoya turned around, making it easier for Takeshi to draw the shirt down his arms, and now that he wasn’t staring the Hibari in the face, he couldn’t help but absently note the smooth paleness of his skin. Takeshi paused with his hands on the waist of the trousers, and when Kyoya didn’t refute the aid, he gently tugged the cloth down over Kyoya’s hips and buttocks, just as clinical in his touch as before.

“I’ll have tea ready before you’re done, Hibari-sama,” he offered calmly as he got back to his feet, neatly folding both the trousers and the shirt over his arm to take to the laundry room once Kyoya was busy with his bath. Kyoya nodded blandly, hands going to the waist band of his briefs, and Takeshi turned away politely so he could finish undressing in peace.

“Ready a blazer for tomorrow,” Kyoya ordered before Takeshi heard him walk towards the bathroom. Takeshi nodded wordlessly, making it a point to stay turned away until the door to the bathroom closed.

 _Really didn’t expect that to happen,_ he mused to himself, smiling just a bit. It was probably a sign that he was doing well at his job, though. Part hired killer, part hired house-help. Taking one last glance around the room to make sure everything was in place, he turned and left for the laundry room. He had tea to prepare too, and it would be best to change before Kyoya made a reappearance.

*

Takeshi’s days degenerated into long afternoons and longer nights following Kyoya and his loyal delinquents around, keeping order in Namimori. Takeshi supposed that he was lucky the Hibari Household wasn’t based in Tokyo, else his life would have been a lot harder. Even if being in Tokyo would mean he’d have been closer to his dad. It was weird, being so far from home, but Takeshi had been mentally prepared before following after his father into the underworld. ‘Home’ wasn’t exactly a stable place, for people in his line of work.

If anything, starting with the Hibari meant that he’d had a much softer start than a lot of people would have had in his place. He had a roof over his head, after all, and a relatively ostentatious one. He didn’t need to try hard at making a name for himself and his skills; his family background had netted him a position that spoke for itself. And he had easy access to good, healthy food every day, and a comfortable futon to sleep in at night. What more could a man want. He even had daily entertainment, having to wait on Kyoya.

His comfort with his living situation and the person he was waiting on appeared to flummox the Head of Security and all the other bodyguards and attendants besides. All except for Kusakabe Tetsuya, who surveyed him with a sharp gaze the first time that Takeshi actually ran into him in the busy household, an entire month after he’d arrived. Kusakabe simply nodded sharply at him when he was done taking Takeshi in, seemingly pleased. Unlike the Head of Security.

“Perhaps it’s because he’s young,” one of the older bodyguards had suggested hesitantly, when it was time for Takeshi’s service to be reviewed. “Tetsuya-kun is also young.”

“It isn’t Tetsuya-kun’s _youth_ that endears him to the young master,” the Head said snidely, before turning back to Takeshi, who made it a point to smile winningly at him. The man grimaced in disgust, and it was all Takeshi could do to not laugh out loud.

“It’ll do you good not to give in to all of the young master’s whims, boy. He has a tendency of running roughshod over his attendants. The only one who managed to succeed till date was Tetsuya-kun, but that was only because he always gave in to whatever the young master ordered. It’ll do you good _not_ to follow in his footsteps on that front.”

“Sure,” Takeshi agreed easily, smile staying in place with the ease of years of practice. “I’ll just follow him around and keep him safe, Sir. That’s my job, after all.”

“You’d do well to remember that,” the Head of Security barked, and Takeshi dropped his torso in the bare minimal angle of a bow needed to display politeness, his smile a sarcastic slash on his face.

*

Apparently his job was also sharing staggeringly priced sake with Kyoya when the man demanded it, while poring over reports that his men had brought him in the light of a lantern, with the moon shining through the sliding door that had been left open to let in the night breeze. Say what you would about the Hibari, but they _did_ enjoy a touch of good atmosphere every once in a while.

Takeshi usually felt safer in a western style house – it was the solidity of the walls – but he couldn’t deny that there was a certain charm to revel in culture, indolently sipping at good sake in the light of the moon, dressed down in yukata for the night. Kyoya stilled over a specific sheet, and Takeshi glanced over at him curiously, pausing in the motion of pouring him another cup.

“Herbivore,” Kyoya started, and Takeshi straightened immediately where he was seated, setting the ceramic decanter back down in its warm water bath to keep it at the right temperature through their discussion. “My men managed to track down what seem to be rudimentary flame powered weapons that are powered by Rain Flames. You’re a Rain Flame user, aren’t you.”

“Yep,” Takeshi said immediately, once he got his initial reaction of surprise under control. “My sword style’s primarily for Rain Flame users too, according to my dad – runs in the family.”

Kyoya’s gaze sharpened at the mention of Takeshi’s sword style. It wasn’t like he couldn’t have noticed that Takeshi was primarily a swordsman – Shigure Kintoki was hard to ignore, slung over his back every day, even if it was hidden inside a cloth bag. But Takeshi had never spoken upfront about what he was capable of in the days since he’d begun shadowing Kyoya.

“Are you interested in giving the weapons a try, then?” the Hibari asked, and Takeshi lowered his head, smiling slightly.

“Anything Hibari-sama wishes. Of course.”

Kyoya’s brows twitched in irritation at that, much to Takeshi’s private amusement. He’d already noticed that Kyoya hated to be waited on blindly, for all that he was clearly used to it, but the signs of that distaste would never stop making Takeshi want to prick at Kyoya’s limits a little more.

“Tomorrow, then. It _is_ the weekend after all.”

Takeshi nodded peaceably in response, and silently completed his earlier halted action of refilling Kyoya’s _ochoko_ 1 _._ The other man’s ire was obviously visible in the way he abruptly drained the cup down before Takeshi could even set the decanter aside, none of his previous appreciation for flavor visible in his demeanor. He gestured for another cup immediately.

Takeshi just smiled some more, doing as directed, and Kyoya’s eyes narrowed in momentary anger before his expression smoothed out, back to being as blank as it had been before. He turned back to his reading without another word, and Takeshi didn’t have anything to distract him from noticing just how enticing Kyoya’s pale skin and the fall of his dark hair looked in the streaks of moonlight coming in through the door, with just a touch of color warming his skin because of the faintly yellow light of the lantern.

 _Clinical,_ he reminded himself mildly, turning his gaze to the open door. _You’re supposed to be clinical._

It wasn’t really his fault, though. No one told him how distracting his first client in the business was going to be. Takeshi was only human, after all, and Kyoya was ‘heart-stoppingly’ attractive, in the words of some of their classmates. His feral grace and the tinge of murder that touched his actions at times just made the man _more_ attractive to Takeshi.

He hadn’t expected to have to deal with this particular problem while working, since he’d not been easily attracted to anything or anyone in years. Just his luck that something about Kyoya hit all his buttons in just the right way.

Kyoya tapped a finger gently against the wood of the desk, and Takeshi turned around to pour him another cup, smiling steadily the entire while, even when Kyoya gestured with his chin, telling him to refill his own cup as well.

*

The trip to the Foundation the next day had him brimming with curiosity, wondering what the weapon Kyoya’s men had found would be like. He’d never had much interest in Flame technology, outside of knowing that research was being done on the topic. And in the fact that it could one day spawn superior quality weaponry, for those who could afford it. Meaning the underworld, military superpowers and anyone who had the money to bid in the Black Market run by the Cosa Nostra, who were still leading in the research on Flame powered tech.

Takeshi was happy with Shigure Kintoki. As far as he was concerned, it was one of the better old age Flame Weapons that existed, and he really didn’t need anything fancier than his ancestral sword. But he wouldn’t say no to playing with new toys if Kyoya offered up something interesting.

And it was _definitely_ something interesting. The bird looking almost lifelike, if it weren’t for the fact that it was made of metal and feathers. Takeshi stared down at it bemusedly, when one of Kyoya’s loyal delinquents handed it over.

“And?” He asked. “What exactly am I supposed to do with this?”

“The researcher we bought it from said it’s supposed to come to life, if the Flame purity is strong enough. Kusakabe-aniki seems to think you’ll be able to manage. For that matter,” the delinquent gave a dubious pause there that had Takeshi glancing back at him with raised brows, “so does Hibari-senpai.”

Ah. That explained it. This had less to do with giving Takeshi a new toy and more to do with Kyoya trying to figure out how valuable _his_ new toy was. Takeshi shot a grin Kyoya’s way, and was rewarded with the sight of Kyoya rolling his eyes where he was leaning against a desk, arms crossed.

“Get on with it then,” Kyoya sighed, and Takeshi nodded cheerfully enough.

“Sure thing, Hibari-sama. Here I go!”

The thing was, for all that he was willing to give it a shot, he was just as surprised as the rest of them when the Flames he brought up in his hands surged into the bird, and seemed to bring it to life. It flapped its wings once, twice, and began to sing a sweet melody that first had everyone in the room smiling, and then, one by one, each of Hibari’s delinquents appeared to start nodding off where they stood.

“Stop,” Kyoya snapped, and Takeshi stopped supplying the bird with flames, reeling a little in place and feeling a lot more drained than he thought he would be.

Kyoya’s men slowly came back to themselves with a start, and exchanged terrified and awed glances before turning to stare at him. Takeshi shrugged a bit, grinning weakly at the attention.

“Go bring us a meal. _Now.”_ Kyoya growled, and the dumbly staring delinquents quickly offered up bows and loud acknowledgements before rushing off.

It wasn’t until Kyoya came up to him and carefully drew the bird from his hands that Takeshi registered that he was swaying ever so slightly in place. Kyoya gave him a hard glance, then nodded towards the couch set up on one side of the office.

“Sleep. I’ll wake you up when the food gets here.”

“Haha, no can do Hibari-sama. I’m supposed to keep an eye on you whenever we’re not at the Main House.” Takeshi refuted, and stiffened when Kyoya put a hand on his arm, expression surprisingly soft for how tight his grip was.

“This is the heart of my territory. _Nothing_ could get at me here, even if you were down for the count. So get some sleep, herbivore, and you’ll be back in good health by the time we need to drive back home.”

“That _does_ sound like uncommonly good logic,” Takeshi admitted, after a long moment. He was rewarded with an upward quirk of Kyoya’s lips, in an expression that could almost be called a smile.

“Hn. It does, doesn’t it. Rest, Yamamoto.”

“Hai,” Takeshi agreed, a little blindsided by the fact that Kyoya knew his name. Not his first name, as Takeshi’s client he would have been supplied with that early on, but his _family name._ Which implied he actually cared about who Takeshi was outside of what he meant to the Hibari as an attendant or bodyguard.

He got his feet up on the couch, and curled up enough so he was actually lying down, his long legs making it a bit of a tight fit, but it was enough. He passed out immediately.

When he woke up, there was a simple sapphire ring waiting for him, and a bento filled with good quality sushi. The ring confused him, but the meal reminded him of home enough that he didn’t even hound Kyoya for letting him sleep almost the entire day away.

*

It wasn’t that Takeshi had anything against trotting around Namimori with Kyoya after college hours. If anything, he enjoyed it – the work he’d taken up came with no breaks, after all. And for all that the attendants new to Namimori had been shown around the town so they knew their way around and could navigate themselves and their clients with ease, or make a good attempt at tracking down their client in an emergency, Takeshi hadn’t actually been given the chance to get used to the sights and feel of Namimori.

What he couldn’t seem to figure out, though, was _why._

He knew how the Hibari Household worked. They seemed to have a track record with having members spread out across justice and legal departments and even the military all across Japan – they took their motto of maintaining order very seriously. And as the main heir to the family, Kyoya had to keep an eye on their hometown.

His dad had _laughed,_ when Takeshi had asked him what was so special about Namimori. Had told him he’d have to figure it out on his own time.

Takeshi hadn’t had any luck figuring it out. All he knew was that, for such a quiet town, Namimori _did_ have an alarming number of overseas criminals popping up over time. And homegrown criminals too. There weren’t any large scale yakuza operations running in Namimori – the Hibari had zero patience for anything of the sort – but small timers sprung up all the time. And Kyoya took it upon himself to send his Foundation delinquents out to clean up any malicious activity taking place in town.

He never seemed to get his own hands dirty, though. That was what Takeshi couldn’t figure out. From the way Kyoya’s previous attendants spoke and the way the delinquents looked up to him, Kyoya _had_ to be able to hold his own in a fight. He just never seemed to do anything of the sort, instead standing and waiting, perfectly put together, while his loyal followers took apart anyone creating trouble for the civilians in town.

It was maddening. Takeshi could admit to himself when he was curious, and he _was._ His infatuation with the Hibari heir hadn’t died at all, if anything it had only gotten worse. But Takeshi was _good_ at staying professional, and at keeping things light-hearted, so keeping himself in check was as easy as breathing. But something in him was dying for a peek at what Kyoya looked like when he let go and roughed up the punks that kept trying to mess with them, either on campus or off of it.

But no. Kyoya always stayed composed, and waited until Takeshi cleared up the dross, and always had a sharp edged smile ready and waiting for him when Takeshi was done, something hungry glinting in his eyes.

Takeshi wanted to throw himself upon that edge, just to see who would break. Him, or Kyoya. The curiosity that had gotten him into this business in the first place was an animal in his gut, and he wondered at times if he would ever be free of it. 

He supposed not; not as long as he had Kyoya to keep him entertained.

*

Meeting Sawada Tsunayoshi is an eye-opener.

“Carnivore cub!” Kyoya snapped, when they came across the mousy, brunet on one of the daily excursions. Takeshi straightened immediately at the moniker – since literally no one they’d come into contact with so far had been christened anything outside of ‘herbivore’.

For all that he was kitted out in a bespoke suit that probably had many yen to its name, nothing about Sawada seemed like it deserved the title of carnivore, not with the way he squeaked the moment he caught sight of Kyoya. Takeshi kept wondering what the heck was up, at least until he noticed the clear crystalline orange of Sawada’s eyes staring back at him plainly. The expression made his back stiffen immediately.

“This is whom they set you up with instead of Kusakabe-san?” Sawada asked curiously, gaze searching, and that just made Takeshi warier. From what he knew, there were a very subset of people who knew about the kinds of arrangements households like the Hibari made with people like Takeshi’s family – and Sawada didn’t look like he should belong to those subsets at all.

It made sense, he supposed, that someone who caught Kyoya’s attention would be so _unassuming._

“Yamamoto Takeshi,” Kyoya introduced him disinterestedly, and Takeshi managed cheery wave, not lowering his eyes from the orange gaze watching him steadily. Takeshi might have seemed like a happy maniac with a death wish, at times, but he was no fool. And for all that Kyoya seemed to know Sawada, _Takeshi didn’t,_ so he was justified in keeping a close watch on him if he was anywhere near Kyoya’s person.

Sawada grinned, sudden and bright, and it was like the sun breaking out from behind a bank of clouds, lighting up the entire sky. Takeshi nearly flinched away from the purity of the emotion.

“He’s a good one, Hibari-san! Not like the others. You should definitely keep him around, if your family’s being stubborn about Kusakabe-san!”

Kyoya tsked, and glanced down at the bag of groceries Sawada was holding onto in one of his hands. The laser-like stare had Sawada laughing nervously.

“You could come over, and mama could make you a hamburger steak? Just for old time’s sake.” He offered, grinning softly, eyes now a warm shade of brown that bore no stain of the Sky-amber they had been before.

Kyoya, much to Takeshi’s surprise, actually thought the offer through before shaking him head slowly.

“Pass. Another day, carnivore, when I’ll be able to meet up with you without someone running to tell my father about us _colluding_.”

Sawada nodded pleasantly enough at that, while the words set off danger signals in Takeshi’s head.

“Sounds good. See you around, Hibari-san. Nice meeting you, Yamamoto-san.”

“Nice meeting you,” Takeshi echoed, and stared after the young Sky’s retreating back, feeling like he’d just come face to face with a natural disaster and had come out on the other side in one piece. “Hibari-sama, who was that?”

“That?” Kyoya repeated, before his lips curled up in one of the hungriest smiles that Takeshi had seen on his face yet. “That was the young Don of the Vongola Famiglia.”

Takeshi choked on his spit, and hurried after Kyoya when he turned to go in a different direction from the one Sawada had taken.

“The Japanese Don? The rumors are true, then?” Takeshi asked incredulously.

“Indeed.” Kyoya replied, going silent, and Takeshi gave it up as a lost cause.

Well, at least he now knew why his dad found Namimori so interesting. For such a small town, it seemed to have a dizzyingly high number of dangerous people hailing from it2.

*

It made sense, perhaps, that Takeshi was called up before the Master of the Household that night, after he’d arranged for Kyoya to be ready for bed, tea and yukata prepared beforehand. He didn’t get a chance to ready himself for the night, instead called out by one of the many normal servants that inhabited the house. By the time he’d followed the servant all the way to the Master’s suite of rooms, Takeshi’s wariness had already risen to some extent.

The fact that they were met by the Head of Security, who looked thoroughly disenchanted with Takeshi, only made the wariness rise.

Takeshi quietly stood at attention before the Master, once he was let into the study, hands flat against his thighs and staring straight at the painting behind the older man’s head, making it a point to not make eye contact with him. The Head of Security was all but radiating his displeasure.

“Well?” Kyoya’s father asked, voice cold.

“ _Wakadanna_ was spotted meeting with Sawada today.” The Head of Security responded promptly, and Takeshi very carefully didn’t react.

The Master considered this thoughtfully, before finally glancing at Takeshi, who remained still.

“You, boy. Was the meeting planned in advance?” Kyoya’s father demanded, gruff, and Takeshi responded without moving from his position of attention.

“No, Sir. We’d been making our daily rounds when we came across Sawada, on his way back from grocery shopping.”

The Head of Security grunted at that, clearly unwilling to believe him, but Takeshi didn’t look at him, cautious of rising to the bait being hung before him. The man couldn’t have become Head of Security simply on the grounds of being intolerant, after all. And for all that Takeshi wasn’t meeting the master of the Household’s eyes, he could still feel the older man’s gaze cutting right through him.

His dad had _warned_ him that entering the Hibari Household could be dangerous. Even after hours, when he wasn’t the only person watching over his client, and could take it a little easier – not that working with Kyoya was ever _easy._ But Takeshi hadn’t registered just how dangerous it could get until now.

“Very well, we’ll let it slide, this time. At least this one is able to keep up with my son; most of the people you picked before couldn’t even come close.”

“Forgive me, _danna-sama,”_ the Head of Security mumbled, dropping into a low bow. Takeshi copied him, lowering himself just an inch further than his superior. Kyoya’s father chuckled, apparently having caught his glance at the Head of Security.

“Yes, definitely better than the previous trash you picked,” he said, with a hard smile stretching across his face. “You. You’re Tsuyoshi’s brat, aren’t you.”

“Sir,” Takeshi murmured, not looking up. Not when the Head of Security was still bowing.

“Good, good. Tsuyoshi was always a good man to have at my back. Unflinchingly loyal, too. See that you don’t let that loyalty lead you astray – am I clear?”

“Sir!” Takeshi replied, and backed out of the room when he was dismissed, leaving the Head of Security and the master of the Household to finish their conversation.

He hurriedly made his way back to the small room that had been assigned to him, connected to Kyoya’s larger suite of rooms. He rarely used to for anything other than storage – he had the tendency to lay out a futon in Kyoya’s study instead, seeing as it was closer to Kyoya’s bedroom, making access easier in an emergency. It wasn’t much effort to prepare his sleep yukata for the night, but he paused over his clothes, wondering whether or not he should announce himself to Kyoya before making his way to the communal baths in the servants’ quarters.

It didn’t take much thinking over. Kyoya had just returned from his own bath when Takeshi had been summoned by the Hibari heir’s father, and Takeshi had been forced to make quick excuses before leaving. The situation in the Master’s study had been tense enough that he was beginning to build his own suspicions about why, exactly, Kusakabe-san had been switched over to another Family member, and why Kyoya had been so relentlessly on edge when Takeshi had first joined the Household.

Weighing his options, Takeshi sighed, and laughed a little at himself. It barely took any thinking over, of course. He left his clothes behind, on top of his neatly rolled futon, and made his way back to Kyoya’s bedroom, which was where the other man could usually be found, late in the evening.

*

Kyoya, when Takeshi announced himself and let himself into the room, was seated on his bed, reading quietly. Something about the air around him made Takeshi pause by the door, painfully feeling the lack of Shigure Kintoki’s weight on his shoulder.

“Hibari-sama,” he said cautiously.

Kyoya didn’t look up, focused on the papers spread out on the bed before him. Takeshi cautiously stepped further into the room, wondering if he shouldn’t have showered before returning to meet Kyoya anyway. The fact that Takeshi was still in his suit while Kyoya had changed for bed should have made him feel more in control; if anything, if made him feel more vulnerable.

It was only after Takeshi had settled down on his knees by Kyoya’s side, on the ground, that Kyoya deigned to look at him.

“Hn. Back, are you,” Kyoya murmured, and Takeshi swallowed dryly, tilting his chin up to meet the fingers that curled under the edge of his jawline.

“Yes,” he whispered, and Kyoya tilted his head to the side, eyes blank.

“Did you go and show off your tricks like a good dog for my father?” Kyoya asked, voice steely, and Takeshi felt a chill go down his spine.

“Hibari-sama-” Takeshi wasn’t able to get out anymore before Kyoya’s fingers unfurled gripping his entire lower jaw tightly, unyielding.

“Answer carefully, herbivore, if you don’t want to lose your tongue, and the rest of your head besides. It hasn’t been so long that I’ve forgotten how to bite you to death. Even a hint of a lie and _I will know.”_ Kyoya hissed, and Takeshi felt the chill at the base of his spine go molten in heat.

“I didn’t tell your father anything,” Takeshi bit out hoarsely, once Kyoya loosened his grip enough to let him talk. “I _wouldn’t._ You’re my client, Hibari-sama!”

“As is my father,” Kyoya replied, ruthless. “He commands your loyalty just the same as me, and he’s the Master of this Household. If he asked you a question, you would be expected to answer.”

“And all I mentioned was what I saw. That we ran into Sawada on the street by chance, when he was out buying groceries. Nothing else.” Takeshi shot back, voice hard.

They stared each other down, at a stalemate. Takeshi’s hands tightened on his knees, his knuckles going white. Kyoya breathed in slowly, his fingers on Takeshi’s face gentling, though Takeshi had the sinking feeling he would have to steal some foundation and powder from one of the maids’ private stores, just to hide any possible bruising.

“Nothing about the Foundation?” Kyoya asked, and Takeshi ducked his head into Kyoya’s grip.

“Nothing.” He said, firm.

Kyoya watched him quietly for a long moment, his fingers flexing in their hold on Takeshi’s jaw before he finally drew them away, turning back to his papers.

“Good. Bring sake from the kitchens, I want to drink.” Kyoya declared, and Takeshi slowly rose back to his feet, grinning wryly.

“As Hibari-sama wishes.”

It looked like that shower would have to wait.

*

Takeshi quickly got used to helping Kyoya out with his work at the Foundation. After Kyoya’s reaction when Takeshi returned from the meeting with the his father, it didn’t take much to guess that the Foundation must have been what made the Master of the Hibari Household take Kusakabe away from Kyoya’s side. The work they did was dangerous, and brought no real benefit to the Hibari Household.

If anything, it made Namimori a more lucrative target, going against everything the Hibari usually stood for.

Kyoya was attached to it, though, clearly invested in the research in a way little else kept his attention, outside of the general upkeep of the standard of living in Namimori.

It was during the upkeep of Namimori’s general standard of living that Takeshi got more proof for his theory on why Kusakabe had been wrenched away from Kyoya’s side. It started out relatively innocently, with newer punks from the Momokyokai trying to pick a fight with them. Kyoya stayed back with a blank look on his face, while Takeshi knocked most of them flat on their backs.

The last one had just gone down when they were interrupted by the sound of clapping. Takeshi stiffened immediately, getting back to Kyoya with a hand on the Shigure Kintoki’s sheath, but Kyoya lifted a hand to stall him, eyes narrowing faintly.

When the new figure stepped out of the shadows, Takeshi wondered if Sawada had a _gaijin_ twin. The dirty blond haired man standing before them was smiling faintly, his eyes a pale blue and impossible to read, even for Takeshi.

“Nicely done, Hibari-dono. Sawada-dono hadst mentioned that thou hast a new employee to thine name. He suits thou well.”

“Basil.” Kyoya said plainly, body still. Takeshi’s hand tightened on his katana’s sheath, stretching out his senses to see if there was anyone else in the vicinity, but no, it was only the other man, watching them with his smile firmly set in place

“Sawada-dono wishst to meet you. Willst thou come?” he asked, his words almost laughably archaic.

Kyoya tipped his head forward in the barest semblance of a nod.

Takeshi didn’t say anything, no matter how much he wanted to, because it wasn’t his place to make decisions for Kyoya, not when he could clearly make them for himself. And not when there seemed to be something else at play than Sawada suddenly deciding he wanted to meet the Hibari heir.

Whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been a walk through the backalleys of Namimori; a circuitous path that eventually led them to a comfortable looking residential area with independent houses. Basil politely held the gate open for them, and Kyoya walked through them as though it were his right to precede the other man. An attitude that Takeshi was _very_ familiar with, but not in unfamiliar surroundings where every shadow might very well be someone intending harm on his client.

“Yamamoto,” Kyoya murmured, pausing for a split second before the front door of the house before them, low enough that Basil wouldn’t have heard his voice unless he’d been trying particularly hard to catch it. Takeshi forced his shoulders to loosen a hair’s breath, and gave the other man a faint smile, unable to stop himself from holding his body in a deceptively relaxed pose.

Somehow, his inability to follow the order inherent in Kyoya’s tone only made the Hibari heir’s eyes sharpen, oddly appreciative, before he turned his gaze forward, reaching out to ring the doorbell.

The door swung open immediately, and Takeshi blinked at the cheerful looking lady standing on the other side of it.

“Kyoya-kun! Oh, I thought you might be coming today when Tsu-kun asked me to make hamburger steaks for dinner. It’s been so long since you stopped by – come in!”

“Sawada-san,” Kyoya said, lowering his head in a polite nod, and the lady _beamed._

It took a large part of Takeshi’s will power to not gape at them both. And, once he got a hold of himself, even more of his will power to not _laugh._

Sawada-san, who had to be a relative of the other Sawada Takeshi’d been introduced to, turned a curious smile his way once they had both stepped in, exchanging their shoes for slippers that were ready by the door. Clearly a household used to guests, judging by the number of slipper cubbies set up, Takeshi noted distantly, even as he smiled back.

“Yamamoto Takeshi,” Kyoya introduced abruptly, not going into any more details, and Sawada-san’s smile turned sunny.

“Oh, a new friend. How lovely. Do convey my good wishes to Tetsuya-kun as well, Kyoya-kun, it’s been a while since I’ve seen him, too!”

Ah. Takeshi slanted a look Kyoya’s way, curious in spite of himself, and watched with interest as Kyoya’s lips pursed in the slightest hint of discomfort before they smoothed out again.

“I will, Sawada-san. Is… Tsuna… in his room?”

Sawada-san laughed again, and smoothed out the front of her apron and dress.

“Yes, yes he is! Oh, Basil-kun, you’re back too – be a dear and help me in the kitchen will you.”

“As thou wishest, Maman.” Basil responded immediately, politely trading his shoes for slippers as well.

Takeshi didn’t have any more time to ponder over the sheer _strangeness_ of the Sawada household because Kyoya had turned away and made for the stairs with an impatient shift of his shoulders that had Takeshi rushing after him, though not without offering both Sawada-san and Basil a quick nod.

The walk till Sawada’s closed door offered up no answers to his questions, either, because Kyoya remained silent the entire way through.

Sawada, when they opened the door, greeted them with a distracted smile, his suit jacket thrown over the back of a chair and his shirt sleeves rolled back, busy poring over something on a laptop screen with another vaguely foreign looking man with ash blond hair. The blond glanced up at them, surveying Takeshi with a hard look before switching his gaze to Kyoya.

“Hibari-senpai,” he greeted immediately. “Kusakabe still assigned to your cousin?”

“Hayato,” Sawada sighed, and Kyoya somehow found it in himself to ignore the comment, instead striding forward to _actually sit on the bed beside Sawada._ Takeshi had to control his urge to stare at the scene with raised brows, instead finding a wall to lean against and settling in to observe, because the situation had shifted from dangerous to _interesting._

Kyoya shot him a _look,_ one that had Takeshi grinning innocently, and Sawada coughed, clearly trying to hide his laughter. ‘Hayato’ sighed, rolling his eyes.

“If we can get back to the matter at hand, please. Juudaime?”

Sawada coughed, sobering up admirably fast.

“We’ve got some trouble at the dockyards in Tokyo. Haru and Kyoko both suspect human trafficking. Kyoko’s already offered to go and see if we need to deal with this in full strength or if the issue can be managed in talks of some sort with the triads or the yakuza responsible, but I’d rest easier if you could go with her, or send some of your people.”

Takeshi’s brows actually rose this time, and he glanced towards Kyoya, who didn’t seem offended at the request to go along to guard someone named ‘Kyoko’ on the words of Sawada. If anything, he seemed to be considering the matter seriously. Enough so that…

“…I will go. It will be dangerous to send any of my men with her – they’ve been associated with Tetsuya before. We don’t need my father deciding to completely withdraw him from my family’s affairs.”

Yeah, Takeshi had kind of expected that. Kyoya looked _eager,_ somehow, a familiar hunger gleaming in his eyes. Takeshi had seen the same look in Kyoya’s eyes whenever Takeshi had to clear out any of the trash that attacked them, or if Takeshi had to step into any altercations that they found during their rounds of Namimori.

The mention of Tetsuya was _enlightening._ Takeshi didn’t allow himself to consider it too seriously, not when he was still on the job and Kyoya always seemed to be able to tell when he wasn’t focusing. But it was something to think about, later, especially when Takeshi remembered the meeting he’d had with the Head of Security, and with Kyoya’s father _._

“Your father won’t create any trouble for you if you suddenly take a trip to Tokyo, Hibari-san?” Sawada interjected, voice gentle, and Takeshi stiffened against his wall, smile staying on his face only through sheer will.

Sawada’s eyes glinted orange again, their gaze on Kyoya’s still figure warm and accepting. Hayato didn’t interrupt them, sitting back with an ornery look on his face that Takeshi could tell was akin to his own smile – a face to pull on they didn’t want to let on what they were thinking.

Kyoya huffed, looking irritated.

“My father can _try,”_ he said, voice cool. “I am my own master, and it will do him well to remember that.”

“I could go. Or I could ask Basil to go.”

Kyoya rolled his eyes, and Tsuna gave an awkward smile. Hayato gave a rude snort, and looked back at the laptop.

“Hibari’s got a point, Juudaime. We can’t risk you, and Basil looks too obviously foreign. They’ll assume an overseas party is trying to muscle in on their trade.”

Tsuna sighed, and leaned back on his hands.

“Whereas _they’re_ the overseas party muscling in on _our_ territory. I don’t want human trafficking happening in my waters, Hibari-san.”

“Hn. Nor do I, carnivore. Nor do I.”

Takeshi was hard-pressed not to whistle. Both Kyoya and Sawada looked long suffering – apparently the issue was one they’d had to tackle before. He found himself speaking up before he could quite help himself.

“Well, my dad lives in Meguro-ku. He wouldn’t mind us dropping by the apartment if we needed a less obvious place to stay before we headed towards the Port,” Takeshi offered, and the other three turned to stare at him, apparently having forgotten he’d been standing in the room at some point.

Kyoya twitched, once Takeshi’s words sank in, looking irate, but Sawada _laughed._

“I really like him, Hibari-san; you should work on making him stay!” he said cheerfully, while Hayato groaned, lifting his hand up so he could push up his spectacles and squeeze the bridge of his nose.

“ _Juudaime,”_ he all but whined, and Sawada laughed some more, waving a hand at Hayato to calm him down.

“Is this a done deal then, Hibari-san? You’ll go with Yamamoto-san and Kyoko to Tokyo?”

Kyoya glanced back at Takeshi, unexpectedly enough. Takeshi just grinned back at him, shrugging indolently, and Kyoya rolled his eyes, looking back at Sawada, whose delighted smile seemed to grow another few millimeters.

“We’ll go,” Kyoya said firmly. “When is this container ship supposed to make port?”

Hayato cleared his throat, and leaned forward again, pointing at what was supposedly a schedule or map of some kind on the laptop.

“It should be here sometime next week. One of Fon’s people came through and he passed the information on to Reborn-”

Takeshi let the words wash over him, leaning back into the wall again and tuning them out. While he was looking forward to heading back home to Tokyo for a bit, he was more interested in what the trip to Sawada’s home had divulged when it came to the _Hibari._ From the sound of it, Takeshi had been on the right track before.

Hibari Kyoya was working with the young Don of the Vongola Famiglia. No wonder the Master of the Hibari Household had demanded answers from Takeshi. It made his lips tug up in a hard slash of a smile that he immediately swallowed, not wanting to draw attention from the three men busy discussing their next course of action.

Well, it wasn’t any of Takeshi’s business, truth be told. He’d been hired to watch over Kyoya and ensure that he didn’t get hurt, meaning Takeshi’s loyalties lay solely with _Kyoya_. What Kyoya chose to do with his free time made no difference to him.

Takeshi had to admit, though, that it was comforting to know that the man Kyoya had chosen to ally himself with against the wishes of his household was so adamant on not allowing human trafficking of any kind to flourish in Tokyo waters.

When he felt someone watching him, he glanced up sharply, and ended up meeting Kyoya’s gaze head on. Takeshi swallowed heavily, unable to make himself look away, and Kyoya’s head tilted just the slightest bit to the side, his eyes quietly watchful, before turning his attention back to whatever it was that Hayato was describing.

Takeshi found his hands clenching into fists, and he consciously shook them open.

“Herbivore.”

Takeshi glanced up again, and walked forward without any question when Kyoya lifted his chin slightly in the direction of the screen.

“You’ll have to tell us where you live so we can plot distances,” Sawada explained, smiling up and him, and Takeshi laughed, easily crouching down beside the bed so he could get a clear look at the map they had open.

“Sure, you might want to zoom in a bit more…”

All through the rest of the conversation, Kyoya’s gaze on him felt like it was peeking past his skin, through to the want simmering in his gut. Takeshi made himself ignore it, and focused on laughing at the right spots and poking fun at Hayato when he could get away with it, just to see if he could make that pale face screw up in irritation or go red. He knew the type that blew up the fastest at his façade, after all, and Hayato was it.

His jokes and playing at being sheep-like didn’t make Kyoya stop watching him, though, and Takeshi was uncomfortably aware of that fact.

This attraction was beginning to turn into an unwanted distraction, wasn’t it.

*

It didn’t take too long to arrange the particulars of their trip, once they decided on traveling. Kyoya somehow managed to talk the Dean of his Department to sign off on a research trip to Tokyo. Takeshi just lingered in the background, horribly amused, watching the Dean nervously smile up at Kyoya while signing off on his permission slip.

Bringing the matter to the Master of the Household turned out to be a lot less dangerous than Takeshi had expected. He’d underestimated Kyoya’s deviousness.

For all that Kyoya liked things to be clear cut and uncomplicated, and hated dissembling like the plague, he understood his father and the way the Hibari Household worked _very_ well. Where a trip out of Namimori would have been suspect by itself, apparently Kyoya’s father _respected_ education. Enough so that he was willing to turn a blind eye to an educational tour.

“I’m not sure if I should be impressed or shocked,” Takeshi admitted, in a rare moment of honesty, and it earned him a sharp smile from the Hibari heir.

“Hn. Well, I can’t fault you for being dumb at least, even if you _are_ pathetically herbivorous.” Kyoya commented mildly, making Takeshi laugh in surprise.

Kyoko, when they finally met up with her at the train station on the day of their departure, turned out to be a sweet looking girl around his age, with long, honey brown hair, pretty brown eyes and a sweet smile that Takeshi was wary of from the moment he laid eyes on it.

“Kyoko-san,” Kyoya offered politely, while Takeshi stashed away their suitcases, tilting his head in the faintest of bows, which was returned by Kyoko immediately, her smile broadening.

“Hibari-senpai! It’s been a while. You should visit more often; Brother misses your spars. Especially since Tsuna stopped indulging him too.”

“Hn. Sasagawa should learn patience.”

“Oh, I know. You know how he can be, though. Poor Tsu-kun’s been going mad trying to avoid him.”

Takeshi almost banged his head against the luggage compartment when Kyoya _chuckled_ quietly, hurriedly getting out of the way so the Hibari heir and ‘Kyoko-san’ could sit down comfortably. Takeshi sat down in the aisle seat for better visibility _and_ for the added benefit of being able to watch them interact when they were seated beside each other.

Tagging along after Kyoya was always fun, but watching him interact with Sawada and his friends was turning out to be an absolute treasure trove of information on the otherwise reserved man.

Their murmured conversation continued, Kyoko sighing over someone she called ‘Hana-chan’ and Kyoya simply called ‘Kurokawa’. There was a mention of self-defense, and of this Kurokawa ‘getting suspicious’ that had Takeshi’s ears pricking up in curiosity, but the conversation shifted towards Kyoya asking after Kyoko-san’s… boxing lessons? Takeshi imagined the frail looking girl kitted out in boxing gear, or better yet, with her hands and feet taped and ready for an MMA tournament, and felt his lips stretch out into a full-fledged grin.

Apparently his expression was too hard to ignore, because Kyoko bent forward so she could directly offer him a smile.

“You’re Yamamoto Takeshi-san, right? Pleased to meet you; I’m Sasagawa Kyoko, an old classmate of Tsuna’s! Hibari-senpai was our upperclassman in school.”

Takeshi smiled back, charmed in spite of himself, and offered her a silent nod. Whatever else the girl was, she seemed honest enough in her friendliness. Kyoya cleared his throat softly, and Takeshi blinked, before shooting a quick grin at the girl.

“Pleasure! I’m working… with Hibari-sama for the foreseeable future. Please take care of me.”

Kyoko hummed, before smiling sweetly again, the expression almost heartbreakingly cute. She’d probably been the Madonna of her entire high school, when she’d been younger, Takeshi though amusedly, wrapping everyone around her little finger.

“Tsuna said that we’ll be staying at your home before we set out for the docks to find someone in charge to speak to; is that right?”

“Haha, that’s right. Dad runs a sushi restaurant in Meguro-ku; our apartment’s right above it.”

Kyoko seemed fascinated, and cheerfully asked for more stories, which Takeshi found himself spilling over without hesitation. Not that Takeshi minded sharing the stories. It was proof that the girl _would_ make a good negotiator, if nothing else.

Kyoya had been leaning back through the entire giddy conversation, his eyes closed. Takeshi had assumed that he’d been attempting to doze off, disinterested in the chatter of ‘herbivores’, as he’d no doubt put it, which was why he was surprised when a momentary glance to the side netted him the sight of Kyoya’s eyes parted at barely a sliver, watching him. Takeshi blinked, and when he opened his eyes, Kyoya’s eyes were closed again.

“Oh, I hope that we’ll get the chance to explore the city, after we’re done with our work! Will you take us around, Yamamoto-san?”

“Of course,” Takeshi answered on reflex. “If Hibari-sama is willing, of course.”

“Hibari-senpai agrees, don’t you senpai?”

“Hn,” Kyoya muttered, noncommittal, and Takeshi snorted out a laugh, unable to help himself.

When he glanced back at Kyoko, she was watching him carefully, eyes glinting a pale orange, much fainter in shade than Sawada’s, before the color blinked out. Takeshi couldn’t say he was all that surprised, though. She seemed as easy to confide in as Sawada did – as most active Sky Flame users did, he supposed.

It took them nearly two hours to reach Tokyo, but the time sped by easily, with Kyoya mostly dozing while Takeshi and Kyoko spent the train ride in easy conversation. They quickly learned to fall silent whenever the menacing air around Kyoya grew stronger. Takeshi still wanted to know what Kyoya looked like when he cut loose, but even he had to admit that Kyoya’s patience snapping while they were on the _shinkansen_ 3 would be a colossally bad idea.

Stepping out of the taxi they took to his home was a _relief,_ if only because Takeshi knew he was ready to end their bout of traveling before Kyoya completely lost his patience with _crowds._ Meguro might have been one of the quieter wards, but Tokyo wasn’t Kyoya’s stomping ground the way Namimori was, and the people weren’t naturally inclined to maintaining his sense of order.

Takeshi’s dad barely looked surprised when they stepped in through the open doors of the sushi parlor, welcoming them with an easy grin and a laugh.

“Put away your things and wash away the dirt of travel, all of you,” he said, his smile gentling slightly when he turned it on Kyoko. “Come back down when you’re better rested and I’ll arrange lunch for you here. On the house, for Takeshi’s friends!”

“Thanks dad,” Takeshi said, grateful that his dad didn’t single Kyoya out for specific attention. Then again, his dad had worked for the Hibari Household before – he could probably read them better than Takeshi could, even after spending months under their roof.

After they made their way up, Takeshi glanced back at his two companions with a bemused smile.

“Well, this is it. It isn’t impressive, but it _is_ home. We’ve got two bedrooms – you can each take one, and dad and I can sleep on futons in the living room.”

“Yamamoto-kun,” Kyoko admonished, sounding terribly disapproving, and Takeshi coughed, trying to hide his laughter at her tone.

“Well, you _are_ guests, here. And you’re a girl, Kyoko-san. You’d be getting a room at the least. As for Hibari-sama-”

“I will be fine sleeping on a futon in the living room,” Kyoya interrupted him, ignoring the shocked look Takeshi shot in his direction. “I will not turn your father out of his room when we simply plan on remaining here for a single night’s stay before we attack the container ship tomorrow.”

“Hibari-senpai, our first course of action _isn’t_ going to be attacking them, no matter how much you wish otherwise,” Kyoko said sternly, and Kyoya shot her an irritated look that bordered on petulant.

“Let’s take it up with my dad later, after we’ve all had a chance to have a bath,” Takeshi offered, letting the argument settle before it could fully erupt.

“That is acceptable,” Kyoya nodded faintly, while Kyoko sighed.

“I’m assuming I’m turning you out of your room no matter what?”

Takeshi shot her a cheeky grin, wordlessly offering up his answer and making her groan theatrically.

Offering up the bathing area to them both, Takeshi instead changed into an old tee and sweats combination he’d left behind at home when he’d set off for Namimori, and after mentioning where he was going, headed down to see if he could help his dad out with the restaurant. His dad shot him a vaguely amused look, but he still passed on an apron and set Takeshi to work waiting on tables without a bat of his eyelids.

By the time Kyoya and Kyoko ventured downstairs again, Takeshi had already settled into an older skin, cheerfully greeting new customers and passing orders back to his father behind the sushi bar. When he finally took a breather to join them both at the bar, he was greeted with congrats for his work from Kyoko, and a strange expression he didn’t quite understand how to parse from Kyoya.

“Good work, Takeshi!” his dad called out cheerfully, waving at him to take a seat as well. Takeshi laughed and took a seat as he was bid, neatly removing his apron and passing it back to his dad.

“Good work, Yamamoto-kun,” Kyoko chimed in too, smiling sweetly. Kyoya nodded after her, and Takeshi found himself rubbing the back of his head, laughing wryly.

“It’s nothing,” he replied easily. “Have you had a chance to eat yet?”

“Not yet, we just got here,” Kyoko said, and Takeshi nodded.

“You kids just let me know what you’d like once you’re ready, okay?” His dad said cheerfully, and Takeshi waved him away with a grin.

They got their orders down, and then, later, their food as well without much hassle. Eating with Kyoya wasn’t a strange experience in itself, nor was it strange for Takeshi to eat downstairs in the restaurant. He’d brought his teammates over several times after training, or after a big match, enough so that sharing meals in comfortable company in the family restaurant had become ingrained for him.

No, what was strange was combining _Kyoya_ with that feeling.

For all that Takeshi had been battling his attraction to the Hibari heir, it had never really posed much of a problem to him to segregate his feelings in a box and put them away when he had to. He was a professional, after all, and Kyoya _was_ his client. So it was strange, seeing his client in an otherwise casual setting for himself. It all but set off ringing bells inside Takeshi’s head – like the professional and personal sides of his life had collided messily, and refused to sync up properly after that.

Kyoya managed to convince Takeshi’s dad during the course of the meal to sleep in his own room, murmuring something about not turning the homeowner out of his own room. It didn’t make for a very convincing argument all on its own, but Takeshi’s dad let it go without too much of a struggle, apparently well acquainted with just how stubborn a Hibari could be if they put their mind to it.

*

Takeshi found himself pushing back the couch and the coffee table after dinner, making space for the two futons he laid out, uncomfortably close to each other because of the lack of space. Kyoya didn’t seem to care either way, patiently waiting for Takeshi to ready the sheets, pillows and a pair of blankets before unhesitatingly sliding into bed, the yukata he’d worn after his bath a relatively simple cotton one that he could wear to sleep too. Takeshi did one last round of the house’s main door and the kitchen before switching off the lights and sliding beneath the sheets of his futon as well.

The house was silent, both Takeshi’s dad and Kyoko having turned in before Takeshi had finished readying the sitting room for himself and Kyoya. The sound of the night wasn’t anywhere near as quiet as Namimori, obviously; Tokyo never really slept. Even in the quieter wards like Meguro. The sounds were familiar to Takeshi, but he found himself wondering how Kyoya felt, so far away from his hometown and personal stomping grounds.

A careful glance to the side made Takeshi stiffen, though, because Kyoya was still awake. And was watching him quietly in the dark, his pale eyes gleaming in the little light that streamed in through the windows.

“Hibari-sama?” Takeshi asked uneasily, and Kyoya’s expression twitched with irritation.

“Hibari.” he corrected abruptly. Takeshi tensed even further, unable to look away.

“But-”

“ _Hibari,”_ Kyoya stressed. “You are in no way lesser than me, Yamamoto. Not in your own house, and not in your city.”

Takeshi’s mouth went dry, and he pushed himself up on his elbows so he could stare down at the Hibari heir incredulously. Kyoya just stared back at him steadily, and Takeshi felt laughter bubble up in spite of himself.

“Haha! That’s a good one Hibari-sama. I’m just the guy who helps you out if you need it, and gives you a second pair of hands if and when necessary. Maybe I help guard you when you aren’t up to guarding yourself, but-”

Takeshi broke off with a choked sound when a hand fisted in his yukata, dragging him forward and down. He managed to break his fall on his right forearm, which landed at the side of Kyoya’s head. He stared down at the older man, feeling heat slide down his spine when he registered just how close they were. Kyoya just stared back up at him, though, brows lowered slightly in visible irritation.

“You’re a lot more than ordinary, herbivore, for all that you seem to be happy to act that way. You can actually keep up with me; not many can do that.”

“Kusakabe-san could do that too,” Takeshi defended, swallowing when Kyoya’s gaze went heavy-lidded, dropping momentarily to Takeshi’s lips before languidly drifting back up to meet him directly.

“Hn. Tetsuya trained to keep up with me since he was a child,” Kyoya shot back, bland. “He’s a completely different beast from you, fake herbivore. You didn’t appear before me until you were fully grown and you could still keep up with me.”

“‘Fake herbivore’? That’s a new one.” Takeshi laughed, and felt his breath hitch when Kyoya dragged him down a little further. He put his left forearm down on Kyoya’s other side, staring down with wide eyes, because it was a little hard to ignore a situation like this as common place, wasn’t it.

“Hibari-sama-” he tried, and got a growl and another rough tug at his yukata for his efforts. It made Takeshi grin a little, helplessly amused in spite of everything.

“ _Hibari-san._ Mind telling me what exactly you’re trying to do?”

“What does it _look_ like I’m trying to do?” Kyoya countered, mild, Takeshi’s smile sharpened at the edges.

“Oh, I don’t know. Something possibly dumb if you’re just trying me on for size. I might be your paid attendant, but I’ve got _some_ limits.”

Kyoya’s hand tightened in Takeshi’s yukata, and his expression went closed, about as abruptly as a gate swinging shut.

“If you think that’s the reason why I’m doing this-” he hissed, and Takeshi tilted his head to the side, his smile broadening.

“I did have to ask, y’know. I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

Kyoya’s eyes just narrowed further, and he dragged Takeshi down again, enough so that he was barely hovering over Kyoya’s form.

“You are a lot of things, fake herbivore, but _easy_ has never been one of them.” He declared flatly, and Takeshi laughed right in his face, unable to do anything else. The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back and had a hand pressed tight to his throat, just shy of choking him.

He wheezed out another laugh anyway, because Takeshi had rarely been accused of being particularly sane. Kyoya eventually let go, anyway, sliding his hand down to press flat against Takeshi’s chest, keeping him pinned to the futon.

“This… amuses you?” Kyoya asked, a strange expression flitting across his face, and Takeshi grinned up at him wryly.

“Can you blame me? I spent the last few months trying to stay professional because I didn’t think you’d ever be interested, and here you are, propositioning me in my house.”

Kyoya’s eyes sharpened at that, and he leaned in, a curious smile stretching across his face.

“Oh? Then that means that you _are_ interested, then.”

“Oh, definitely,” Takeshi drawled, trying to get his elbows beneath him to push upwards, but Kyoya’s hand was like a leaden weight, keeping him in place. He gave up pretty easily, shrugging up at the Hibari heir when it earned him a raised eyebrow. Couldn’t blame him for trying, right.

“It’s just that I’m not too clear about what it is that you’re proposing, exactly.”

“Hn. I thought I was being clear enough on that front.”

“Not really, no,” Takeshi admitted, his smile softening to something fainter.

Kyoya’s head tilted to the side, waiting, unnervingly patient, and Takeshi’s smile unfurled into a smirk.

“See, I can’t figure out if you’re temporarily propositioning me because we’re outside Namimori and you’re bored, or if you’re _propositioning_ me, which is a whole other ball game, really.”

Kyoya stared at him some more, before rolling his eyes and leaning away with a huff.

“I did say you weren’t easy, fake herbivore. What exactly did you think I meant by that?” he asked, bland, and Takeshi felt his breath catch in his chest.

When he pushed himself up on one elbow this time, Kyoya didn’t stop him, instead turning his face back and watching with interest when Takeshi reached out with his other hand.

“You better be serious, Hibari, I don’t exactly play around with stuff like this,” Takeshi warned, his hand hovering carefully right by Kyoya’s jawline, and Kyoya’s gaze darted to the side so he could eye Takeshi’s hand from the corner of his vision.

A slow smile curled across his lips, and he gently shifted his head so Takeshi’s fingers drifted across his skin. Takeshi stared, mouth going dry.

“Good. Neither do I,” Kyoya replied, and reached out to fist his fingers in Takeshi’s yukata again.

The tug forward and the crush of their lips together was a _relief,_ heat dragging roughly across all of Takeshi’s senses. Takeshi let himself be pushed back without any protest whatsoever, drowning in sensation. When Kyoya finally pulled away, his mouth was wet and he was looking thoughtful. Takeshi shifted, running the tip of his tongue across the seam of his lips, and was rewarded with Kyoya’s gaze dropping down to them again.

“Still interested?” Takeshi asked, some of the heat in him touching the words, and making Kyoya’s head tilt to the side, fascinated.

He made an affirmative sound, and leaned in again.

The meeting of their mouths was violent, this time, harsh enough to crack their teeth together. The pain was barely noticeable; Takeshi was more focused on the way his blood was pounding in his ears and how Kyoya tasted faintly of the green tea he’d finished his meal with before they’d drawn back up to the apartment to begin turning in for the night.

When Kyoya pulled away for the second time, Takeshi was the one to follow after his mouth, dragging him back. It earned him fingers at his wrists, dragging them up so Kyoya could pin him in place, but Takeshi sure as hell didn’t mind them.

“Stay in place, herbivore-” Kyoya muttered, following him down again, and Takeshi couldn’t help but laugh lowly this time.

“Back to that, are we. _Yes sir,”_ Takeshi murmured back.

Kyoya abruptly stiffened in place, and let go of his wrists, pulling away immediately. Takeshi blinked in confusion at the ceiling, registered what he’d said, and winced.

“Not good?” he asked, apologetically, and Kyoya shot him a cold look that had him flat out _cringing._

“I… Don’t really mind, you know. That I’m your employee, or that you’re my client,” Yamamoto offered in turn, and Kyoya made a low noise, glancing away.

Takeshi… hadn’t really expected that their work situation would matter to Kyoya so much. Then again, Kusakabe had apparently been right by Kyoya’s side as his guard and aide since they were children – feeling attracted to Takeshi at all must have felt somewhat wrong.

Takeshi rubbed the back of his neck, and slowly dropped his head in an apology.

“I won’t call you sir or Hibari-sama again, if it makes you that uncomfortable when we’re together.” He said seriously, and could feel it when Kyoya’s gaze was directed back at him.

“…see that you don’t.” Kyoya said, finally.

Takeshi looked up at that, and offered an awkward grin, the expression staying in place even when Kyoya reached out to gently smooth his thumb over Takeshi’s lower lip.

“Another kiss before we turn in?” Takeshi offered quietly, the heat in him at a low simmer now.

Kyoya turned that over in his head, before nodding and leaning in to replace his fingers with his mouth. Their tongues came together slow and easy, just a taste, before Takeshi pulled away and rested his forehead against Kyoya’s, breathing heavily with his eyes still closed.

Sleeping after that wasn’t as hard Takeshi might have expected it would be. If anything, the buzzing his veins had cooled, now that he knew there was an actual direction the want that had been simmering in him could take.

Kyoya seemed perfectly at ease on his end, having slid into his sheets again without any qualms and falling asleep within a minute, but then, Kyoya always seemed clear on what he wanted. And _he’d_ been the one to approach _Takeshi._

Somehow, Takeshi just wanted to see the nicer manners he wore like a coat ripped to shreds even more, now. He was willing to bet just about anything that the reason Kyoya kept himself so in check had something to do with Kusakabe-san and Sawada, and the Master’s disapproval. The self-possessed air the older man had, and the wariness most of the residents of Namimori had whenever they saw him, told Takeshi that Kyoya with his thin veneer of polity ripped off would be a sight to see.

It was a shame that Kyoya wasn’t being allowed to be himself.

*

The next morning was relievingly normal. Kyoya barely paid any attention to Takeshi at all, outside of watching while he brewed first the tea and then the miso soup for them once everyone was ready for breakfast. Takeshi might have thought the previous night had been a dream of some sort if he didn’t carry the barest traces of bruising on his throat – from when Kyoya had half strangled him on the ground.

Kyoko either didn’t notice the bruises or didn’t call attention to them, but Takeshi’s dad shot him a _look_ that had Takeshi ducking his head with an awkward grin.

Kyoya didn’t seem to be particularly interested in sightseeing during the day, drawing out paperwork from the Foundation that he’d brought with him, and Kyoko seemed to be interested stepping out to take a look at any cheap clothing stores that she could find. Takeshi was caught between offering to accompany her and staying back to keep an eye on his client, but she took care of his hesitation with a cute smile and a little wave, accompanied by the otherwise innocuous ‘you’re so sweet, Yamamoto-kun’ before she departed.

Takeshi was left blinking after her, before sighing, and deciding that the rest of the day would be better spent helping his father in the restaurant. At least it would keep him occupied without resorting to hovering over Kyoya with nothing else to do. That way led madness, because Kyoya was patient and focused and would barely notice Takeshi if he had something else to direct his attention to.

The day bled away in the rush of waiting on tables, and needing to be friendly with a smile ready no matter the attitude of their customers. His dad’s shop didn’t exactly draw rowdier crowds, especially not during the day, but you could never really tell what a new day would bring in the restaurant. By the time Kyoko showed up with her purchases in hand and Kyoya found his way downstairs, it was already late noon, edging into evening.

“Do we know what time the ship will get here?” Takeshi asked Kyoko pleasantly, over the bento of sushi that his dad had sent up for them with him.

Kyoko nodded, finishing her mouthful before answering.

“Fon’s associates said that the ship’s Ming Line, and should be making port at the Shinagawa Container Terminal at… 2100 hours, Hibari-senpai?”

Kyoya grunted, distracted with the toro4 sushi that Takeshi’s dad had been kind enough to pack into his bento. Takeshi found himself trading a wry grin with Kyoko, who looked like she was liable to burst into giggles if she weren’t distracted.

“Might be for the best to get there early and wait, in that case. Do we know which containers we need to be checking on or do we just keep an eye out for anyone who looks dangerous showing up in that section?”

“Don’t be obtuse, fake herbivore, that would take too long,” Kyoya cut in, shooting a hard look their way, and Takeshi directed an innocent look back at him.

“But wouldn’t that be more interesting? Then we’d get to check out everyone who shows up for the cargo on that ship. More fights for all of us!”

Kyoya looked like if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to insult Takeshi’s intelligence or allow himself to get distracted by the mention of more fights. Hah. Takeshi _knew_ that there was a fighter hidden somewhere in there beneath those smirks and that menacing air.

They were both interrupted by Kyoko giggling softly, clearly trying not to attract their attention. She quickly waved their looks away when they turned to stare at her.

“Don’t mind me,” she said, grinning, “I’m just happy that Hibari-senpai finally got an aide he gets along with! The earlier few were such _bores.”_

Takeshi laughed cheerily at that, accepting it for the compliment it was, while Kyoya rolled his eyes, and turned back to his lunch.

They made plans to set out by seven, planning on being at the container terminal well before the ship would actually make port. And hopefully enough in advance that they wouldn’t attract any undue attention from the people they were supposed to be fighting off.

Or negotiating with, _preferably_ negotiating with, but something told Takeshi that they wouldn’t be so lucky.

*

They waited all the way till 2300 hours until the people they were waiting for finally showed up, moving directly for the container that Takeshi, Kyoya and Kyoko had been watching.

They’d waited on dropping an anonymous tip to the authorities because they actually _wanted_ to deal with the party coming in to claim the people within. It made Takeshi feel just the slightest bit guilty; but Sawada and Kyoya were both focused on helping these people. They would get to that side of things eventually.

Takeshi could easily tell that the yakuza thugs headed their way were packing – guns and knives, maybe a tanto or two from what he could see from a distance.

“Remember, negotiations first, Hibari-senpai,” Kyoko warned, and Kyoya rolled his eyes.

“Hn. That _never_ happens, herbivore.”

“Well we can try, at least,” she countered. “And then we can tell _Tsuna_ that we tried and he won’t harangue us for breaking things again.”

“ _Why_ do I get the feeling that when you say breaking things what you mean is breaking _people,”_ Takeshi said bemusedly, and Kyoko directed a sunny little smile his way.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” she said, and Kyoya sighed, aggrieved.

“Let’s get on with this,” he said, and neatly dropped over the side of the container and back to the ground.

Kyoya’s sudden appearance on the ground had the thugs who’d shown up bristling with guns, but even they stopped in confusion when Kyoko called out, her voice ringing sweetly through the distance between them.

Takeshi sighed, and dropped to the ground as well, uncomfortable with how quickly his client had left them behind at the prospect of a fight.

Well, he’d _wanted_ to see Kyoya ruffle all his pretty edges, hadn’t he.

“We’re here to talk.” Kyoko said plainly, “Tokyo is held by the Vongola, and the current Don wants to talk business with your Boss.”

That had the men muttering loudly amongst themselves, but Takeshi felt a hard smile tug at his lips.

“I thought you were here to stop a fight, not _start_ one, Sasagawa.”

“It’s not like it isn’t the truth,” Kyoko muttered back. “The Vongola have been keeping an eye on the Port in recent years. Their control over the territory flagged when Tsuna’s father shifted semi-permanently out of Japan, but Tsuna’s been clear about what he’s comfortable with in his territory and what he doesn’t like.”

“Maybe so,” Takeshi agreed easily. “But no one likes being told that _they_ aren’t the ones with the power in an equation.”

Predictably, the thugs didn’t hesitate to level their guns at Takeshi’s party. Less predictably5, Kyoya’s face split in a wide smirk and he all but threw himself at the thugs, withdrawing a pair of tonfa from beneath his suit jacket.

“Hibari-senpai we’re supposed to be talking!” Kyoko yelped, but she withdrew a sleek pistol of her own, offering up cover-fire where she could, because Kyoya was a whirlwind amongst the thugs.

Takeshi blinked slowly, before laughing sharply, the thrill of watching Kyoya finally, _finally_ come alive settling in beneath his skin.

He unsheathed Shigure Kintoki from its saya6 and charged in as well, blocking the thug that had tried to aim a slash with his knife at Kyoya’s unprotected back.

The fight devolved from there. The thugs had too much ammo, and they had other members waiting in the woodwork for them, rushing to the containers as back up when the loud sound of gunshots ripping through the nighttime quiet made it obvious that something had gone wrong.

Takeshi found time reduced to him deflecting bullets when he could, and knives if they came close to his form, or Kyoya’s.

Kyoya focused on slamming his way through knife wielders’ guards, then bringing his knees to bear and crushing them into unwary stomachs.

Faces were punched in, and throats crushed when possible.

He didn’t play even remotely fair, and the sight of a few of the weaker willed thugs turning to run away made Takeshi _laugh._

Kyoya turned out to be a great partner to fight alongside. Takeshi almost regretted being too busy to watch – he wouldn’t get a proper chance to see the Hibari heir actually dirtying his fingers for once.

Kyoko’s yelp had Takeshi spinning around, ready to head back and help, but something collided hard against the back of his head, making his vision blur. He managed to get out of the way, trying to pinpoint who’d hit him when a knife hilt slammed into his temple, making his head ring.

The last thing Takeshi heard was Kyoya snarling his name before he completely blacked out, crashing to the ground.

*

He woke up at home, head feeling raw, with his dad by his side.

His jerk upright in bed only sent him crashing back into the mattress, groaning in pain. Takeshi’s dad sighed in relief, muttering something unpleasant under his breath.

“Do you have _any_ idea how lucky you are that I have friends amongst the dockhands?” he asked, exasperated. “Or else you’d have woken up in a police station, with that shoot out you were in last night.”

“Wasn’t _my_ idea,” Takeshi grumbled back, warily pressing his fingers to his sore temple. Even the slightest touch made his vision waver uncomfortably, so he dropped his fingers with a wince. He directed a pained glance at his father right after, though.

“Sasagawa and Hibari?”

“Gone,” his dad confirmed grimly, and Takeshi grunted something filthy in response, earning himself a gentle swat on the knee.

“You’ve got to wonder why they didn’t bother taking me too,” he muttered, scrabbling around his bedside table and easily finding the phone his dad had dropped there after bringing him home.

“Probably for the best; now I don’t need to wonder whom I’d have to call to let them know you’re missing,” his dad said mildly, and Takeshi _cringed._

“Noticed that, did you,” he asked, and Takeshi’s dad rolled his eyes, levering himself up from the chair he’d dragged to Takeshi’s bedside.

“I know it might not seem like it, but I’ve been at this for a lot longer than you’ve been around, kid. Make your calls and get to it. No concussion?”

“Nope. I can see straight, anyway, and that’s going to have to do for now,” Takeshi quipped, making his dad laugh before he stepped out of the room.

Takeshi spent a few seconds trying to filter out his internal screaming at somehow having managed to _lose his client,_ and more importantly, _lost Kyoya,_ before forcing his fingers to dial out the number Sawada had insisted he input in his phone to be on the safe side, before they left Namimori.

The call to Sawada’s Right Hand went about as well as it could have gone.

“You _lost_ them? What the fuck do you mean you lost them?!” the Italian snarled, spiraling into a truly dizzying mess of slurs that Takeshi barely understood, owing to the sheer number of languages the other man was stringing together.

Thankfully, Sawada snatched the phone away from Gokudera before they could waste any more time.

“We’ll start out for Tokyo immediately, but nothing’s going to get us there before two hours are done.” Sawada said, voice still, and Takeshi could clearly hear Gokudera shut up somewhere in the background. He grinned mirthlessly in response, hunching over his knees.

“I’m not too happy about my charge disappearing either, Sawada. If I weren’t a trusting man, I’d ask if you had anything to do with this, even if you’ve known Hibari for longer than I have.”

“And if _I_ weren’t a trusting man,” Sawada murmured, “I would ask why you’re the only one who managed to escape while both my fiancée and one of my best friends disappeared.”

Takeshi snorted.

“Well then. I guess it’s a good thing that we’re both trusting men.”

“Right? Now that that’s out of the way, do us all a favor and see if you can get started on tracking those _chinpira_ 7 down to the larger group they work with so we can get our people back. And Yamamoto-san,”

Takeshi paused in the motion of getting out of bed, something about Sawada’s tone making his hair stand on end.

“Yeah?”

“Do what you have to, to get that information before we get to Tokyo. Negotiations are off. Understood?”

Takeshi found himself grinning wildly in response to Sawada’s words. Well, damn. At least now he knew why Kyoya seemed to be so fond of the otherwise unassuming Japansese Don.

“Understood. I think we’re going to get along just fine, Sawada.”

Sawada barked out a laugh that sounded it was shredding his throat on the way up, and cut the line.

*

His dad helped, as he always did. He looked absolutely exasperated while handing over a contact at the Port that Takeshi could try out, making Takeshi laugh, the sound sharp and cutting.

“If it makes you feel any better, I have a couple of seniors who quit the baseball team who might be able to help me too. So I won’t be relying only on your contact.”

“Better,” his dad praised, and got a hand on Takeshi’s shoulder before he could leave the house.

“This wasn’t your fault Takeshi. Deal with it, get your information and your people. But don’t go out there thinking you have a point to prove. That isn’t going to help anyone.”

Takeshi blinked, and sagged under the weight of his dad’s hand, grinning wearily.

“Tousan,” he asked, “does it ever really get any easier?”

“If you stay in the business? No, not really,” his dad replied. “But from the look of things, you’re not going to be on your own for nearly as long as I was. Good.”

“Really? I thought the Hibari were just a good place to _start.”_

“That was me. Apparently Hibari _Kyoya_ is made of different stuff than his father.” His father said, sounding pleased, and Takeshi felt his ears _burn._

The look on his face must have been amusing, because it made his dad laugh fondly, shoving him at the door.

“Go on, then. Get out of here, and find your people.”

Takeshi grinned, the expression pulling tight on his face, and left.

*

After spending part of the morning connecting with his dad’s informant at the Port, Takeshi finally tracked down one of his own informants. The experience proved to be a pain in the ass, because he’d forgotten just how jumpy Tatsuya-senpai used to be.

Tatsuya grinned uneasily at him, looking like he wanted to rabbit. As usual.

Takeshi pasted a smile in place, and crossed his arms, making his old senior groan and drop into a deep bow, hands on his thighs.

“Come on now, senpai. None of that. I know you’ve got friends who run with one of the Minami-ikka’s youth groups. I managed to narrow the people I want to track to either the Minami-ikka or Kurogawa-kai8, but I’ll need your help.”

“Yamamoto,” his senpai groaned. “You don’t know what they’ll do to me if they figure out who got you that info! You’re out tracking someone specific, right? You know it isn’t easy to get that kind of information without someone on the inside passing it on!”

“It’s not _much,”_ Takeshi cajoled. “I just need to know if your friends heard about anything happening at the Port yesterday. Shinagawa Container Terminal, to be specific.”

“That’s way too specific,” Tatsuya complained, and went white when Takeshi cleared his throat.

“Think of it as a favor,” Takeshi said finally. “I used to help you smoke on the sly in school, remember? And I helped you get away from old Noguchi when he almost caught you with Airi-senpai in the girl’s locker room. And I didn’t even ask you for anything in return back then.”

“If only you had; this is way more dangerous than fucking _Noguchi,”_ Tatsuya grunted, but he went for his phone, as Takeshi expected he would. Tatsuya wasn’t a complete snitch, but he hated pain. And anyone who’d been paying attention to Takeshi in his last years of senior high knew that Takeshi didn’t hesitate to dole it out if necessary.

The call gave them answers, alright - a definite ‘no’, that the Minami-ikka hadn’t collected their container yet. The confirmation that the Minami-ikka weren’t involved made Tatsuya sag in relief, while Takeshi twitched, not happy at all. The Kurogawa-kai were larger than the Minami-ikka, and possibly more dangerous to take on all on his own.

He was tempted to try anyway. Even if he knew help was on the way, and even if his dad told him not to take the blame on himself, he couldn’t help but feel like his passing out was the reason why the thugs had been able to get the drop on Kyoko and Kyoya.

“So I can go now?” Tatsuya asked, wiping the sweat off of his brow with his shirt, and Takeshi waved him away, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t go telling anyone you were talking to me.”

“Are you crazy? No way in hell; forget _you,_ that’d get _me_ in trouble!”

Takeshi laughed after him, unable to help himself. The sound made Tatsuya cringe visibly even from a distance.

Takeshi swept his way back onto the streets, making for where he’d parked his dad’s beat up old Honda. Next in line was figuring out where, exactly, the Kurogawa-kai were holding Kyoko and Kyoya. Takeshi was betting they’d known exactly whom they were capturing when they’d gone for his companions – Takeshi had been the odd one out. Both Kyoko and Kyoya had visibly been Sawada’s people, from the look of it, and recognizable enough that the thugs had _known_ whom to capture.

In which case the rest of the group would be _ready_ for Sawada to show up to negotiate – violently or otherwise.

He paid the parking meter and let himself into his car with a sigh, pausing to bang his head against the steering wheel before turning the key and pulling the car into gear. This trip to Tokyo was proving to be a lot more complicated than Takeshi was really comfortable with.

*

It didn’t take him long to get to Shinjuku, his days as a youth trawling through Tokyo with classmates who were up to no good enough for him to know that that was the best place to start if he wanted info on anyone operating in the city. The only drawback was that it was still light out, but he figured he could still ask around Shinjuku or work backwards into Shibuya if necessary.

It turned out he didn’t need to. He managed to duck into a bar in Shinjuku where the bartender was very willing to tell him where to go if he needed to find some of the _shatei_ 9 of the Kurogawa-kai as long as Takeshi was willing to fork over enough money to make it worth his while.

“They bad for business?” Takeshi asked wryly over the shot glass of whiskey that the man had shoved his way.

“More like some of their younger kids caused some shit at a friend’s, ah, _bathhouse,_ shall we say,” the bartender replied, smiling meanly. “It might have been someone from one of the youth groups, but they’ve been starting shit more and more often, recently. They’re not paying _me_ to keep my mouth shut so I don’t see why I can’t pass on some info to a nice Tokyo native like you.”

“I’m not sure if I should be looking this gift horse in the mouth or not, old man, but thanks, you made my life a whole lot easier, haha!”

“Drink up, boy. And if you go around telling anyone where you got this info just remember my kid runs with the Yamaguchi-gumi10.”

That nearly made Takeshi sputter up his mouthful of liquor, but he somehow managed to swallow it before collapsing on the counter in laughter.

“Wow, you’re _vindictive,”_ Takeshi snickered. “You got a name, old man?”

“ _Nope_. Now get your ass outta here if you know what’s good for you, brat, I gotta shut shop. You’re lucky you came in when you did.”

“Sure, _I’m_ the lucky one,” Takeshi grinned, and the man snorted at him, filled with spiteful good humor.

Not that Takeshi could blame him, if members of the Kurogawa-kai had been creating trouble at his _friend’s_ Soapland11. Telling Takeshi where to go had just netted him the end of the Kurogawa-kai as a whole, if Sawada’s words were to be trusted.

*

Sawada, when he showed up, stared at Takeshi’s smiling face for a long few moments before directly a rueful smile Gokudera’s way.

“This is like that time Lambo’s family tried to kidnap him in Messina and you dragged information out of some street rats while the rest of us ran around like headless chickens.” He said, and Gokudera’s cheeks actually went red. Takeshi had to hide a grin, watching as the other man puffed away at his cigarette and mumbled that it hadn’t been anything special.

“Mightn’t it have been better hadst Yamamoto-dono captured some of these men for us to interrogate?” Basil asked politely, and Sawada shook his head, raising a hand when Takeshi opened his mouth to reply.

“It’s fine; it’s better that he didn’t. We don’t want to set off any radars before we’re ready to move in on them. Sorry,” Sawada added with an apologetic glance Takeshi’s way, “if we’re getting in the way of the rescue operation you wanted to mount.”

Takeshi gave an easy shrug, letting a grin slip onto his face at that.                                                                               

“Can’t say I didn’t want to, but hey, this way I have back up too.”

Sawada blinked and eyed him a little warily at that, while Basil nodded approvingly. Gokudera, on the other hand, sighed, lifting a hand to squeeze the bridge of his nose.

“I’m not sure if it’s better you wait for back up before you fuck shit up or not; Hibari was a loose cannon who just did what he wanted to do and we got _used_ to that.”

Takeshi blinked, tried to imagine his client being a loose cannon intent on ‘fucking shit up’, and had to grin a little wistfully at just how nice that looked in his head. Because he could definitely see it. For all that Kyoya had been holding himself in check to protect Kusakabe-san from his family, violence _suited_ the Hibari heir. The shootout at the container terminal had only convinced Takeshi on that.

When he looked back at the others, he found _both_ Sawada and Gokudera eying him apprehensively now, while Basil just looked amused.

“Thou art a _lot_ like Hibari-dono, for all that thou preferst to act normal, Yamamoto-dono.” Basil remarked, and Takeshi shrugged innocently in response.

“Well, we _seem_ to work well together, so I can’t say no to that.”

Sawada’s groan interrupted what Basil seemed ready to say, and they all turned to watch as he scrubbed at his hair nervously.

“We,” he said very carefully, “should make a move on that nightclub Yamamoto-san’s contact mentioned. Before we waste any more time.”

 Takeshi nodded readily.

“Yeah, let’s go. I have a car we can use, too, so we won’t attract any attention on the metro.”

“Well, at least we won’t attract attention on the _metro,”_ Sawada said, sounding harried, and Takeshi had to snort.

“Keep it together, Sawada. We’ve both got people out there.”

Sawada shot him a hard glance, eyes going orange again, and he straightened abruptly, an odd expression touching his face before it went absolutely blank.

“We do, don’t we. Very well. Lead on, Yamamoto.”

Takeshi felt a shiver run down his spine. Something told him that Sawada would be a _very_ dangerous man to cross, when it came down to it. It was probably for the best that Kyoya was allied with him. Another glance from those crystalline orange eyes had Takeshi moving for the door without another word.

…Takeshi had to admit, though. Sawada cutting loose would probably be a lovely a sight to see, too.

*

“We’re really lucky turf-head’s not in Japan right now,” Gokudera muttered, out of the blue, when they were nearing the club.

Whoever ‘turf-head’ was, the mention of him was horrifying enough that Sawada’s eyes lost their tinge of sky flames, and he made a strangled sound right after, hunching over. Basil hummed thoughtfully, before turning a sly grin on Takeshi.

“It mightst be for the best, that thou didn’t meet Kyoko-dono’s respected older brother after losing her in a shootout,” he said, and Takeshi turned that over in his head before wincing.

“Definitely for the best if it’s got Sawada looking like that, haha!”

“Don’t laugh, please; I’m imagining having to explain this to him and it’s making me nauseous,” Sawada whined, and Gokudera patted him on the back comfortingly, looking just as green as he did at the thought.

“We’re here,” Takeshi said abruptly, pulling into an open parking lot near the club.

They avoided the front door and the bouncer, instead looking for a way in at the back, seeing as Takeshi’s Shigure Kintoki would definitely get them stopped, no matter how expensive their suits looked. There was a back door in an alley that managed to get them in, thankfully abandoned except for a couple that seemed too involved with each other to notice them going through the door.

They found themselves in a dimly lit corridor, the bass from the club proper loud enough that they could still hear it, and feel it pounding through the ground beneath their feet. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in their near vicinity, even after a careful glance around.

“I don’t know whom we’re looking for,” Takeshi warned. “We could probably try the bartender and see if he’s willing to give us any information. The old man I spoke to didn’t say that this was specifically Kurogawa-kai territory, but you never know.”

“Let’s ask one of the bartenders,” Sawada agreed. “Hayato?”

“I will stay with the Boss,” Basil said immediately, when Gokudera shot a glance at him.

“Okay then. This way- Sawada, Basil, keep your eyes peeled. I’m guessing the Kurogawa-kai is aiming for you. Which would be why they left me behind – I’m not recognizably in your camp.”

Sawada looked surprised for a split second, before a hair-raisingly gentle smile spread across his lips.

“They can _try._ Good luck.”

“Juudaime,” Gokudera bobbed his head, and shoved at Takeshi’s shoulder to get him moving.

Takeshi stumbled after him, still reeling after that glimpse into the Will that existed at Sawada’s core. Gokudera thankfully didn’t make fun of him. If anything, he looked _sympathetic._

Takeshi could understand why. Having to work at Sawada’s side must have made the Italian immune, over time.

The moment they pushed through the doors at the other end of the corridor, they found themselves in a throng of people, idling in an alcoholic haze or drawing away from the sway of people further in. Takeshi took the lead, shoving his way through, and ignoring the yelps and curses it drew his way. Gokudera followed after silently, watching his back.

The closer they got to the bar, the harder it got to avoid the dancing masses. Gokudera got shoved into Takeshi’s back, and he nearly lost his footing, reaching out for Takeshi’s arm to steady himself. Takeshi peered around them with sharp eyes while Gokudera straightened himself out, grumbling foully under his breath.

“Clubs are more interesting when you’re one of the people getting drunk and dancing,” he complained, yelling to make himself heard over the music, and Takeshi threw a quick grin way.

“Can’t deny that. They’re just a fucking pain if you’re looking for someone, though.”

“Amen to that. The bar?”

“Yeah, let me-” Takeshi pushed through the last of the people, ignoring the dirty looks it got him, focusing on the man with slicked back hair and glasses on the other side of the counter, busy with a cocktail shaker.

“Hi, what can I get you?” he asked, and Takeshi grinned back.

“Two shots of vodka and an answer to some questions, if you don’t mind.”

The guy shot him a wary look, glancing down at his suit and then at the sheath sticking up behind his shoulder. But he nodded anyway, first pouring out the blood red drink in his shaker into a highball glass and pushing it towards the female customer on Takeshi’s left, before whipping out a pair of shot glasses for Takeshi and Gokudera, neatly filling them and pushing them forward.

“Drink up, gentlemen, and let’s hear what you have to say.”

Gokudera knocked back the shot easily, when Takeshi pushed it towards him, but Takeshi waited on his shot, instead waving the bartender closer.

“We’re looking for some men. Rumor has it that they show up here for the music and the drinks.”

The bartender shoved up his glasses nervously, but he stepped in closer readily enough, licking his lips nervously.

“Ah. Gaijin?” he asked, eyes darting towards Gokudera. Takeshi shook his head, laughing a little.

“Nah. Locals. It’s just, see, they’ve grabbed a couple of our friends. We don’t want to trouble you guys, though, so if you could just point us in the direction of anyone from the Kurogawa-kai…”

The bartender went white and, yep, there was the look of another man about to rabbit. Gokudera threw one arm out to catch the man by his shirt collar and drag him back to the counter before he could back away too far. Takeshi threw an appreciative smile his way, and got a roll of his eyes in response, before he turned back to the bartender.

“Make it quick, we’re attracting attention.” Gokudera muttered by his ear.

“We’re really not trying to make a scene,” Takeshi said pleasantly. “We could pay you for your troubles, if you like?”

The man shook off Gokudera’s hand, still looking wary, but Takeshi could see the gleam of greed in his eyes. He looked left and right, almost comically, making sure that the other bartenders were too occupied with other customers to notice before leaning in.

“How much?”

Takeshi glanced at Gokudera, who made an irritated sound, but leaned in too.

“10k, punk. How does that sound?”

The bartender scoffed.

“Like you want me to slit my neck for _peanuts,_ is what it sounds like. Make it 30.”

Gokudera made an outraged noise, but Takeshi put out a hand to stall him, glancing back at the bartender with a grin.

“And _that_ sounds like you’re trying to scam us. 20?”

The bartender blinked, sweating, before a wide smirk broke out on his mouth.

“Make it 25 and you have a deal. I have info you’d actual _like_ having so it’s worth it.”

“I reserve the right to fucking bash your skull in if you don’t actually have anything worth this shit, asshole,” Gokudera grunted, but he got his wallet out and forked over the cash without a word, having been ready with money for bribes if they needed it.

The bartender took it with an oily smile, counting the notes greedily before pocketing the bills and leaning in again.

“There’s a private party going on in the VIP rooms up top. A whole bunch of youth group members, maybe a few little brothers too. They’re not very high on the ladder, but they’re rude brats and should be able to help you good men out some.”

Takeshi laughed cheerfully, and patted the man on the shoulder.

“Great, exactly what we wanted. Thanks!”

Gokudera kept shooting weird looks at him when they made their way to the back of the club. Takeshi didn’t ask about it until they actually reached the door, pausing with a hand on the handle.

“What?” he asked.

Gokudera blinked, and looked away.

“Nothing. It’s just… you’re good at fishing for information, aren’t you.”

“…probably, yeah. Dad always did say I had a gift for it.”

Gokudera snorted, a wry grin twitching at his lips.

“Calling it a _gift_ is probably an understatement. Come on, sword-idiot, let’s catch up with the Boss and Basil.”

Takeshi allowed Gokudera to push past him, still surprised at the unexpected nickname, before grinning and following the Italian down the corridor.

*

Gatecrashing the VIP party resulted in a lot of screaming, scantily dressed women diving behind sofas or to the ground to get out of the way. And _then_ Gokudera threw in a smoke bomb that ended in a lot of coughing for most of the men in the room.

Basil and Takeshi rushed in under the cover of the smoke, quickly aiming at knocking out anyone who came to hand.

The man right in the center of the party with most of the women near him was still wheezing for breath by the time Gokudera got to him, throwing him off of his seat and down on his knees. The man yelled something about them ‘paying for this’, but Gokudera laughed harshly, aiming a violent kick at one of his knees. Takeshi twitched at the sound of the man’s kneecap shattering, and the shriek that tore out of his throat right after.

Sawada, when he stepped through the door, just smoothed out his suit, looking tired.

“Speak, dog,” Gokudera spat, jostling the man on the ground and making him yelp again.

Takeshi crouched down beside his head, smiling, with one hand grasping Shigure Kintoki’s still-sheathed form gently.

“Hi there! See, we’ve run into a bit of a problem, and it seems like you can help us. Willing to try?”

The man stared up at Takeshi blearily, eyes tearing up and his face white with pain. Gokudera scoffed, setting one foot gently on his ankle, making the man stiffen up.

“He’ll answer if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Hayato,” Sawada sighed. “At least give the poor man a chance to speak first.”

“Sorry! Juudaime!”

“We seem to have misplaced some of our friends,” Takeshi said, over the sound of the others conversing. “And we know that it’s the Kurogawa-kai who’re responsible. Do you know where they’re being held?”

“Go die in a ditch bastard,” the man spat, then screeched when Gokudera helpfully stomped on his ankle. The crack that sounded through the room sounded painful.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I don’t think I heard you clearly.” Takeshi said pleasantly, smile staying comfortably in place. Gokudera was grinning meanly above him, looking delighted, while Basil looked like he was trying hard not to laugh.

Sawada looked pained, but he waited patiently, staring down at the man from behind Takeshi.

“I- I mean, I… think I can help?” the man tried, bleeding from his lip where he’d bit into it. Takeshi clapped cheerfully, balancing Shigure Kintoki’s weight through it.

“Wonderful! We’ll just carry you along and you can point the way. How does that sound?”

“Fucking brilliant,” Gokudera drawled over the sound of the man’s whimpers. “Juudaime?”

“Let’s go,” Sawada said, and turned around and walked away, leaving it to them to pick the man up and haul him along, ignoring the terrified looking women who’d stayed in place through the entire discussion.

“Hayato,” Basil called out from behind them, “what of the rest of these men? Doth we leave them here?”

“Yeah, they’re small fry. Juudaime wouldn’t want us to hurt them when they’re knocked out.”

“Ah, I see.”

Takeshi didn’t, really, because his dad had always said tying up loose ends was the safest way to go. But it was another point in Sawada’s favor; Kyoya probably scoffed at his moral high ground, but he would respect Tsuna’s single mindedness on sticking to their goal without wasting time on the dross.

Takeshi just followed along, dragging one of the man’s arms over his shoulders, and leaving the other one to Hayato.

“You’d better not try to create a scene,” Hayato warned, “Or I’m switching places with the other guy. Who just suggested we kill all your men in cold blood.”

The man winced, and nodded his head, silently agreeing not to create any trouble.

“I am not _that_ bad,” Basil protested, and Hayato laughed sharply, glancing over his shoulder.

“Oh no, you _are_ that bad. Go follow up on Juudaime Basil.”

“Yes sir,” Basil agreed easily, and sauntered after Sawada, but not without shooting a sweet smile at the man dangling between Gokudera and Takeshi, only succeeding in spooking him further.

Takeshi couldn’t stop snickering the entire way down the stairs and to the door leading out back.

His laughter must have helped make them look like a bunch of drunk men getting their further inebriated friend out of the club, though, because they got some looks, but no one tried to stop them.

“Who’s driving?” Sawada asked, when they got back to the car.

“I will. Here exchange places with me, Basi- Oh man,” Takeshi broke off with a laugh when the man tried to jerk away from them the moment Basil got closer. “Gokudera you scared him.”

Gokudera simply smirked, perfectly unrepentant. Sawada massaged his temples, looking long-suffering.

“Okay, then. Basil, you’ve got your license on you?”

“Yes, Tenth!”

“Then,” Sawada sighed, “Can we _please_ get started?”

“What the fuck? And you guys are answering to _him?”_ the thug between them muttered.

Takeshi and Gokudera didn’t even need to defend Sawada, who abruptly peered around at them, eyes now resembling molten amber.

“Ito-san” he said, and the man between them _stiffened,_ “Try not to lead us the wrong way. Or I’ll know.”

Takeshi coughed, not sure if should stare or hide a grin. Gokudera, though, didn’t hesitate to cackle, shoving the thug into the back seat and following after him.

*

The man ended up leading them all the way back to Shinagawa, much to Takeshi’s initial bemusement and later uneasiness.

“Where exactly are you leading us?” he asked the man, earning himself a pained glance.

Unsurprisingly, because the first time the man had tried to lead them to some place wrong and Sawada had noticed, Gokudera had calmly grabbed his hand and had threatened to start breaking fingers if he didn’t lead them correctly.

“You want to find your friends, right,” he spat. “Well, good luck getting till them if they’re held at the oyabun’s mansion.”

Both Takeshi and Gokudera turned to Sawada, whose head tilted a little to the side. He looked blank, but he didn’t look irritated, like the man’s attempts at misdirection had made him, before. Takeshi wasn’t sure what the hell allowed Sawada to work like a human lie detector, but he _damn_ if it wasn’t useful.

“He’s telling the truth,” Sawada said. “For once.”

“Guess your thumb stays intact,” Gokudera said, his tone bored. The man hunched over with a pained whimper, and straightened again when Takeshi shoved at him from the side.

“Here,” Sawada barked abruptly, when they drew up alongside an open parking lot. “Park here, it’s not much further.”

Basil pulled over immediately, turning into the lot.

Takeshi smiled, gently thumbing the tsuba12 of his sword. The sound Shigure Kintoki made, shifting within its sheath, made Sawada glance back at him, his eyes gleaming.

“Not much further,” he repeated, voice soft, and Takeshi nodded back at him, his smile tugging into a hard, anticipatory grin.

They dragged the man along right up until they reached the large, heavy doors that led into the house the man had been directing them to, at which point, they knocked him out once Sawada confirmed they’d reached their destination.

Takeshi stared up at the doors with their stylized metal imprints, his arms akimbo as he tried to figure out if he would have any luck at breaking the doors open, or climbing right over.

“Quiet or loud?” he asked curiously, feeling his blood heat. Takeshi had spent most of the late morning and noon tracking information, and it had been evening by the time Sawada and the others had shown up. The sun had already set well before they’d reached Shinagawa, and Takeshi had been champing at the bit for almost a whole day, waiting to get his client back.

“Step aside.” Sawada said, instead, pressing a hand to his shoulder and pushing him out of the way.

Basil tugged him further back, as Sawada lifted both arms, one in front of him and the other behind. Takeshi didn’t even get a chance to question _why,_ before Sawada’s hands and forehead burst into flame. Takeshi’s brows rose high on his face, tempted to whistle as what looked like a beam of fire shot out of the hand outstretched in front of Sawada, blasting the doors backward and away before they were set ablaze.

“Loud it is, then,” he said, laughing, Shigure Kintoki singing as he finally withdrew it from its saya.

“Keep up, sword-idiot!” Gokudera barked, before rushing after Sawada, his hands filled with what looked like sticks of _dynamite,_ of all things.

Basil glanced at Takeshi while withdrawing what looked like a silver boomerang from inside his suit jacket, smiling faintly.

“Maybe thou couldst focus on finding Hibari-dono and Kyoko-dono?” he suggestsed, voice gentle. “Sawada-dono wouldst wish to find this oyabun who darest take our people even after the suggestion of parley.”

Takeshi wondered distantly if he should bother feeling sorry for the oyabun of the Kurogawa-kai or not, because judging from the way Sawada had taken down the doors leading up the driveway, pissing Sawada off was something like taking on a force of Nature. And then decided that, no, the man wasn’t worth his time, not after his men had kidnapped Kyoya and Kyoko.

“Sounds like a good plan,” Takeshi replied easily, balancing Shigure Kintoki on his shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. Feels like Sawada should be able to home in on us when you’re ready.”

Basil _grinned_ , at that, and the expression made him look uncannily like Sawada, lighting up his entire face.

“We will find you,” he agreed. “Good hunting, Yamamoto-dono!”

And with that he took off as well.

Takeshi took a deep breath, cracking his neck from side to side and stretching before making it up the driveway himself, Shigure Kintoki held ready on one side and its saya held ready on the other.

*

It turned out that getting into the house was the easiest thing under the sun after Sawada and the others had made their way through. The front of the house was a smoking ruin, with guards lying either dead on the ground or unconscious everywhere.

Takeshi took a long look around, shrugged, and stepped in anyway, deciding to walk straight through and see how far he would get.

He could hear explosions going off in the distance, could even see the walls of the house shake a little. Traditional houses could deal with earthquakes and fire, but apparently they weren’t made to deal with the Vongola’s Tenth Don coming down on them like a vengeful God. The majority of the men in the house already seemed to have headed in the direction of the disturbance, but the few that Takeshi met on his way through the rooms went down easily enough, with hard knocks to the skull with Shigure Kintoki’s sheath.

The few that actually resisted with weapons of their own, Takeshi actually had to focus harder on to defeat.

He deflected a knife off of his sword’s saya, spinning to slam the mune13 of his sword against the knifeman’s wrist, smartly disarming him, before finally slamming Shigure Kintoki’s hilt right between his eyes. The man went down like a sack of bricks.

Takeshi kept going, locking the next blow aimed at the top of his head with his sword and dropping the saya, then slamming his fist in the man’s throat.

The move had this man choking, then stumbling backwards and dropping his tanto.

Takeshi shook out his fist, wrapped both hands around Shigure Kintoki’s hilt and stepped forward, bringing the sword down hard and fast, slamming the mune between his neck and shoulder and shattering his collarbone.

He went down with a scream. Takeshi didn’t hesitate to aim a kick at his head, then bent to scoop up Shigure Kintoki’s saya again.

And kept going.

That wasn’t the end of the men. They kept coming, if not in droves, then individually.

Anyone Sawada hadn’t managed to drag his way, Takeshi took down, focusing on using just Shigure Kitokito to deflect and knock people out when possible, using hard slashes of the sword when not.

By the time Takeshi finally managed to find the wing where Kyoya and Kyoko were being kept, judging by the western style doors and their western style locks, his forehead and neck were drenched in sweat, as were his hands. Shigure Kintoki’s edge was red with blood, and his jacket and shirt were ripped in the side where someone had managed to score a lucky hit with their knife.

There was a heavy spray of blood streaked across his face and staining his collar and front, left over from when he’d had to rend a man open, from hip to shoulder.

He walked through the corridor cautiously, on the watch for anyone nearby, but it seemed like he’d finally run out of yakuza to cut down. It turned out that most of the rooms were unlocked, save the one right at the end of the corridor.

Takeshi could hear a voice on the other side, muffled by the door. He banged a fist against it, making the voice rise at it cried out in surprise.

And he could recognize it.

“Sasagawa?” he called, still watchful.

The voice replied, affirmative, and he grinned violently, shifting so he could slam his shoulder into the door. It shook in place – so he tried again. And again. When it still didn’t budge, he frowned, and re-sheathed Shigure Kintoki, instead focusing intensely on his right hand.

It took concentrated effort, but the sapphire ring that Kyoya had passed on what felt like eons ago at the Foundation blazed to life. Takeshi continued to concentrate, until his entire hand was coated in liquid blue flames.

He then pressed his hand to the handle of the door, closing his eyes and directing his Will towards the locking mechanism, imagining the very matter composing it beginning to slow down. Slower… slower…

When Takeshi opened his eyes, he could see visible ice crystals sticking out through the keyhole.

This time, when Takeshi slammed into the door with his shoulder, the lock shattered, and the door swung open with a crash.

Kyoko cried out with delight on the other end, but Takeshi only had eyes for Kyoya, his wrists tied behind his back and his ankles bound together before him. And a stare that ripped right through Takeshi, with much more success than any of the thugs that had tried to get the drop on him on his way in.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he laughed, stepping in the rest of the way.

“Stop laughing and cut these ropes, fake-herbivore,” Kyoya snapped, and Kyoko started giggling madly.

“Sure thing, Hibari-san,” Takeshi quipped, and thumbed Shigure Kintoki out of its saya again, then dropped to his knees so he could press the edge of the blade against the ropes binding Kyoya’s legs.

It didn’t take long to wear the edge away enough so Kyoya could rip his legs apart. He shifted around immediately, and Takeshi followed the Hibari heir’s silent direction, shifting his focus to the ropes around Kyoya’s wrists.

The skin surrounding the bindings was red, clearly roughened from Kyoya’s attempts to get free. The sight sent something dark spiraling through Takeshi, making him wonder if he shouldn’t have taken pity on most of the thugs he’d come across and instead used Shigure Kintoki’s edge after all.

“Herbivore,” Kyoya growled, jerking his head back and almost slamming right into Takeshi’s face.

“Ah- sorry. Give me a sec…”

It was barely the work of ten seconds before Takeshi managed to cut through the ropes enough for Hibari to tear through them completely. He turned to start on Kyoko, who’d already helpfully wriggled around to make things easier for him.

“One second, Sasagawa-san, let m- _fuck,_ Hiba-!”

Takeshi yelped when he was yanked back down by Kyoya’s hand fisting in the front of his shirt. Pale eyes were eying the blood on his face with a great deal of interest.

The appreciation in his gaze made something hot coil in Takeshi’s gut.

“Hn. You’ve been busy,” Kyoya said, voice low, and Takeshi rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting down to the other man’s lips.

“Haha, yeah. We’ve been looking for you.”

Kyoya hummed, his gaze sweeping up and down Takeshi’s form, lingering on the rips in his suit jacket. Takeshi found himself leaning in a little, helpless, and only remembered himself when they were interrupted by Kyoko pointedly clearing her throat.

“Sorry, sorry,” Takeshi laughed sheepishly, pulling away from Kyoya and turning back to her.

Kyoko just rolled her eyes when she was free as well, glancing between the two of them with a sly quirk of her lips before shaking her head.

“Come on, we’d best catch up with Tsuna and the others before they actually wind up burning the entire building down. Tsu-kun has a tendency to go overboard if you push him far enough.”

“I noticed,” Takeshi said, dry.

Kyoko coughed, clearly trying to hide another giggle, while Kyoya scowled.

“That oyabun,” he hissed, “Is _mine.”_

“Sorry, but you might have to take that up with Sawada. He seemed just a bit irritated about you and Sasagawa-san being kidnapped. Not that it didn’t make me mad,” Takeshi added, grinning. “I just had more to do. It tempered the anger.”

Kyoya reached up, and dragged his thumb through the tacky blood still sticking to Takeshi’s skin, making something in his head short circuit.

“And made it burn hotter,” Kyoya commented, mild, and about the only thing that stopped Takeshi from bending down and accepting the promise of Kyoya’s lips sliding against his own was Sasagawa, who was still standing and watching them with an delighted twinkle in her eyes.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” she said, grinning when she noticed Takeshi glancing warily at her. “I can wait.”

Kyoya snorted, and shoved past them both, making for the door. Takeshi traded amused glances with Sasagawa, shrugged, and followed him out.

*

The oyabun’s private rooms, when their party reached them, were already in ruins. Takeshi whistled, eying the blackened walls and the still-burning shoji screens, while Kyoko sighed, unsurprised. Gokudera and Basil were inside, kneeling and checking the pulses on the burnt bodies lying on the ground.

Sawada was waiting silently on the engawa, his arms crossed and an amber flame still burning on his forehead.

“Tsuna!” Kyoko called out, and Sawada spun around, looking relieved. She went running to him, and he enveloped her in a tight hug, burying his face in her shoulder.

“Oh good, our party canst leave.” Basil said cheerily, sitting back on his heels.

Gokudera was muttering something about the press under his breath, and hush money. Takeshi cringed in sympathy. One good thing about just being the bodyguard – he didn’t have the responsibility of handling the clean-up.

“Carnivore,” Kyoya snapped, stepping in, and Sawada looked up again warily, flames vanished and his eyes back to the more normal brown.

“Yeah?”

“I was promised a fight.” Kyoya said silkily, walking towards him, making both Gokudera and Basil get back to their feet, looking uneasy.

Takeshi just stared after him with mounting interest.

“You got one at the docks, from the sound of it,” Sawada countered, and Kyoya smirked.

“Not good enough. All of you seem to have had a good time culling this pathetic, crowding herd of herbivores – I didn’t get nearly enough of a chance to bite anyone to death.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t eat anything for too long, Hibari-san. You get hungry.” Sawada said, easily keeping to the same metaphors and making Takeshi grin too.

Kyoya shrugged, though, the action almost calculatedly bored.

“You owe me,” he said, and Sawada stiffened where he stood.

“Hibari-senpai-” Gokudera growled, taking a step their way, and pausing when Takeshi casually thumbed Shigure Kintoki out of its saya, the soft sound enough to stop him short.

Everyone stayed silent, waiting while Sawada turned that over in his head, before tipping his head back with a sigh.

“You want to spar? Later?”

Kyoya’s smirk sharpened as he considered the offer carefully.

“…two. And we’re even,” he said, and Sawada nodded, accepting the compromise.

Takeshi laughed gaily, letting his sword slip back fully into its sheathe.

“Let’s get back to my place, dad should still be able to get some food ready for us.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Kyoko said, just as cheerfully. “Shall we go, Tsu-kun?”

Gokudera glanced between them, looking a little disbelieving, but Sawada just snorted out a laugh of his own.

“Okay, why not. Let’s go.”

*

They were lucky it was late when they reached home. There wasn’t anyone except for his dad’s last straggling customers hanging around, most of them inebriated. They took one look at Takeshi’s party and cleared out immediately.

His dad just looked amused, folding his arms on top of the counter.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah,” Takeshi replied, smiling. “That would be great.”

*

It took a few more days for them to finish clearing up the last of the Kurogawa-kai’s operations, particularly what was left of their human trafficking trade.

The other groups in the area were more willing to negotiate seriously after what Sawada had brought down on the Kurogawa-kai; there was that, at least. Takeshi got to play the nice cop to Kyoya’s looming, ready-to-rip-your-innards-out cop. Sawada and Sasagawa were both long-suffering, but they let it go. If nothing else, it ended in beneficial negotiations for the Vongola more often than not.

The Master of the Household was very suspicious when they finally made it back from Tokyo; apparently stories of what had happened during their visit had managed to make it back to Namimori. But there was no way for them to confirm whether or not Kyoya and Takeshi had actually been involved, short of resorting to forensic analysis of some sort, so he finally let it go.

Kyoya stared him right in the face and told him that their trip had been _educational._

Takeshi had nearly resorted to stuffing a fist in his mouth to stop the laughter from pouring out.

*

They’d barely stepped into Kyoya’s room before Kyoya spun around and slammed Takeshi into a wall.

Takeshi went with it, blinking in surprise, and dropping their duffel bags to the ground when he noticed the look on Kyoya’s face. It was sharp, surveying Takeshi’s features intently. Takeshi felt his breath catch in his throat when Kyoya reached up for his face, fingers gently tracing over the path that the blood spray had taken, almost 72 hours earlier, when Takeshi’d walked through the Kurogawa-kai oyabun’s home, looking for Kyoya and Kyoko.

“I was right,” he husked. “You’d been _interested,_ that night.”

“Hn. Shut up, fake herbivore,” Kyoya replied, his fingers reaching Takeshi’s mouth, lightly pressing down on his lower lip.

Takeshi let his lips part, welcoming the slide of two fingers into his mouth, their press against his tongue dripping molten heat into the base of his spine.

Kyoya hummed thoughtfully, his eyes gleaming.

Takeshi smiled around the two fingers, flicking the tip of his tongue between them playfully, and Hibari pressed them down harder, flattening the muscle against the base of Takeshi’s mouth.

Takeshi _groaned,_ letting the fingers slip back out of his mouth. He leaned in hungrily when Kyoya stepped closer to hook his hand around the back of Takeshi’s neck and tugged him down to slant their lips together. Takeshi licked into Kyoya’s mouth, feeling the heat in his gut build, the slick warmth of Kyoya’s tongue sliding against his own only distracting him further.

When Kyoya pulled away, he licked his wet lips, looking oddly focused.

“You,” he said, abruptly, “Will stay. In Namimori.”

Takeshi blinked at him, confused.

“I wasn’t _planning_ on leaving, y’know.”

Kyoya shook his head, lifting his other hand and fisting it in Takeshi’s shift front.

“I,” he said, voice absolutely still, “will leave the Hibari Clan. And find my own way. Kusakabe will follow me. But you… you are here as a bodyguard to _the heir of the Hibari Clan.”_

Takeshi’s mouth went dry, and he stared down incredulously at the Hibari heir, who stared back at him steadily. It made him laugh, the heat rising again in his veins, pounding heavily in his ears.

“Meaning you want me to stay for _you,_ for _Kyoya,”_ he said, Kyoya’s name taking on a life of its own on his tongue, and Kyoya smiled, the blood warmth rising in his eyes as well.

“Yes,” Kyoya replied, “That’s _exactly_ what I want.”

“Done.” Takeshi said, not even hesitating. And allowed himself to be dragged down into another kiss.

Namimori had been one _hell_ of a ride, so far. Takeshi supposed he had zero reasons to not stick around longer and enjoy the view.

**Author's Note:**

>  **TW/CW:** Takeshi's role as a bodyguard verges close to being a manservant, employee, aide, glorified secretary, personal attendant, what-have-you. This makes for a very awkward power imbalance between him and Hibari - a subject which is _specifically addressed by them in the course of the story_. If the power imbalance discomforts you, please read with caution. There is some violence in the course of this fic - if you're okay with a PG-15 action movie you should be okay with this level of violence as well.
> 
> \---
> 
>  **Notes, Translation or Otherwise, for the Fic:**  
>  1: Ochoko - small ceramic cup to drink sake
> 
> 2: For anyone who’s curious, Takeshi was also born in Namimori. It was his hometown, before Tsuyoshi moved out. He just doesn’t know that. Yet. He’ll find out at some point and be very amused.
> 
> 3: shinkansen - Japanese bullet train
> 
> 4: toro - bluefin tuna belly meat
> 
> 5: Less predictable only to you Takeshi - show of hands, who saw that coming? *grins*
> 
> 6: saya - A Japanese sword sheath
> 
> 7: chinpira - Hoodlum; Small-time yakuza; delinquent; hooligan; punk 
> 
> 8: These are completely fictitious groups. I’ve put some research into yakuza groups that operate in the Tokyo and Yokohama area, but it felt like it would be for the best to go with fiction over fact in this case. *wry grin* 
> 
> 9: shatei - Little brothers. One of the lower rungs in yakuza heirarchy, right above the lowest rung.
> 
> 10: This group isn't fictitious in name; they're the largest yakuza group opperating in Japan as per what Wikipedia's page on the yakuza carries.
> 
> 11: A kind of Japanese brothel, ostensibly for bathing.
> 
> 12: tsuba - A Japanese sword guard
> 
> 13: mune - Unsharpened back of a Japanese sword
> 
> \---
> 
> Hi there! Hope you enjoyed reading this story. A lot of effort went into plotting it, and I honestly spent the entire time screaming at my screen, because my estimated word count went from below 10k to me praying it wouldn't reach 25k. This is Day Six | Cloud Day's entry for KHR Rare Pair Week 2018.
> 
>  **Kudos and Comments are very welcome!** I'm still in the process of responding to the other comments I've received for the week, but rest assured, you will get a response. Did you enjoy my take on Takeshi, and his interaction with Kyoya? Wasn't Tsuna badass? How was the plot? Were the action scenes any good, because I know I agonized over them not being good enough. I'm still considering posting a PWP second chapter to this at some point, dependent on your reactions. Let's see if it happens! 
> 
> \---
> 
> For anyone interested, the next new AO3 post from me will be: Day Seven | Mist Day's submission for KHR Rare Pair Week. 
> 
> You can find me **[@adelmortescryche](https://adelmortescryche.tumblr.com/)** \- come by and say hi! I don't bite.


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